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PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


Purchased  by  the  Hamill  Missionary  Fund. 


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Division 
Section  ■■■■■■ 


///^  - 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/visittowestafricOOhals 


Kamerun  Stool  Made  from  One  Piece  of  Wood. 


A Visit  to  the  West  Africa  Mission  of 
the  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  U.  S.  A. 


“M’60/0,”  “ M'Boulani,”  were  the  words  which  greeted  us  as  we 
stepped  on  the  rude  wooden  pier  at  Libreville,  in  Congo  Francais,  the 
first  of  the  stations  of  the  West  Africa  Mission  which  it  was  our  pleasure 
to  visit.  “M’Bolo”  was  the  African  welcome  which  rang  out  from  the 
merry  group  of  Mpongwe  children  who  eagerly  awaited  our  arrival. 
Many  thousand  times  we  heard  these  words  in  our  African  travels  as  we 
tarried  in  the  busy  town,  or  walked  through  the  lonely  forest,  as  we 
approached  the  great  mission  garden  at  Elat,  where  hundreds  of  school 
boys  stopped  their  work  and  shouted  out  the  now  familiar  word,  or  as 
we  sat  in  the  quiet  of  the  mission  house  at  Efulen  when  some  native 
Christian  who  had  journeyed  from  afar  came  to  the  door  and  in  clear, 
melodious  voice  cried  “M’Bolo.”  Whatever  the  root  meaning  of  the 
word,  to  us  it  meant  “Welcome  to  Africa,  we  are  glad  to  see  you.  May 
you  receive  a blessing  and  give  one  beside.” 

Under  the  leadership  of  the  Mpongwe  school  children  we  started  for 
the  mission  house  on  the  hill.  We  had  gone  but  a few  steps,  when  a 
group  of  godly  women  gave  us  a hearty  African  handshake.  One  of 
these  good  souls  had  been  waiting  many  days  to  see  us.  The  steamer 
was  ten  days  late.  Each  day  she  would  come  to  the  mission  house  and 
ask,  “Has  Mr.  Board  come?”  And  now  that  “Mr.  Board”  was  here,  her 
joy  knew  no  bounds.  As  we  passed  through  the  towns  we  were  im- 
pressed with  the  goodly  character  of  the  houses.  While  small,  they 
seemed  well  built,  with  substantial  doors  and  windows,  and  shutters 
which  could  be  closed  at  night.  There  was  a general  appearance  of 
industry  and  thrift  in  most  striking  contrast  to  many  of  the  houses  we 
saw  at  Old  Calabar,  and  at  various  other  places  along  the  coast. 

BARAKA,  as  the  Mission  is  called,  probably  because  once  here  was 
an  old  slave  market  (Barracoon),  is  situated  on  the  brow  of  a hill  about 
one-quarter  of  a mile 
from  the  beach.  A row 
of  stately  cocoanut 
palms  wave  you  a 
true  oriental  welcome 
as  you  enter  the  gate 
and  pass  along  the 
well  kept  path  leading 
to  the  mission  house. 

This  comfortable 
dwelling,  which  for 
more  than  a genera- 
tion has  sheltered  the 
Gaboon  missionaries, 
stands  in  the  center  of 
twenty-three  acres  of  woodland,  while  in  close  proximity  and  easy  of  ac- 
cess are  the  school,  the  church  and  the  dormitories  for  the  school  children. 

The  school  is  a necessary  factor  in  all  mission  work  and  nowhere  more 
so  than  in  Africa.  “No  race  of  purely  Negro  blood  but  accepts  and 
loses  Christianity  with  great  facility.”  If  Christianity  is  to  become 


permanently  rooted  in  a Negro  race  it  is  doubly  necessary  to  begin  with 
the  child  and  to  train  up  an  intelligent  native  Christian  church,  to  whom 
must  eventually  be  entrusted  the  evangelization  of  the  race. 

The  Fang  school  had  closed  before  our  arrival.  In  the  Mpongwe 
school  were  boys  and 
girls  of  all  ages  and 
sizes,  from  the  little 
tots  on  the  front  row, 
who,  candor  compels 
me  to  state,  were  very 
restless  and  more 
eager  to  play  than  to 
study,  to  the  men 
and  women  who  were 
straining  every  nerve 
to  master  the  multi- 
plication table  or  to 
solve  the  intricacies 
of  the  French  lan- 
guage. The  Bible 
here,  as  elsewhere  in 
the  Mission,  is  the 
most  important  text- 
book in  the  school.  It  may  be  true  in  America  that  the  average  youth 
in  school  or  college,  though  coming  from  a Christian  home,  is  ignorant 
of  the  simple  facts  of  Bible  history  and  story,  but  it  is  not  true  in 
Africa.  These  Mpongwe  boys  and  girls  showed  great  familiarity  with 
the  leading  facts  and  incidents  in  both  the  Old  and  the  New  Testaments. 
On  Sunday  at  Sunday-school  I heard  teachers  ask  questions  on  the  les- 
son which  required  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  to  answer, 
yet  seemingly  the  answers  came  without  the  slightest  hesitation. 

At  Benito  I was  given  full  permission  by  the  superintendent  of  the 
Sunday-school  to  review  the  school  on  the  lessons  of  the  last  quarter. 
The  subject  was  Elijah.  The  school,  which  was  in  fact  the  church, 
answered  quickly,  intelligently,  and,  as  far  as  I could  judge,  accurately, 
every  question  propounded. 

At  a meeting  of  the  Presbytery,  the  examination  of  the  candidates 
for  the  ministry  was  equally  satisfactory.  The  extent  and  fullness  of 
the  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  shown  by  these  young  men,  who  are 
soon  to  be  the  leaders  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  Africa,  was  as 
remarkable  as  it  was  gratifying. 

The  Mpongwe  school,  like  all  the  schools  in  Africa,  is  not  above  the 
primary  grade.  The  teaching  force  is  small,  and  it  is  difficult  to  classify 
the  pupils  satisfactorily.  I was  greatly  pleased,  however,  with  the 
progress  manifested  by  the  scholars  in  the  various  branches  taught. 
Most  of  the  pupils  live  on  the  mission  grounds  in  small  houses  dubbed 
dormitories  in  which  are  hard  dirt  floors  and  beds  made  of  bamboo. 
Each  pupil  is  required  to  work  a certain  number  of  hours  a week  and 
pay  in  addition  a small  sum  for  tuition.  This  is  the  custom  in  all  the 
stations,  and  is  a splendid  training  in  self-reliance  and  independence,  a 
most  necessary  part  of  the  education  of  the  African  youth. 

One  of  the  grave  difficulties  connected  with  both  school  and  church 
work  at  Baraka,  and  in  fact  all  along  the  coast,  is  the  large  number  of 
distinct  tribes  speaking  different  dialects.  In  addition  to  Mpongwe 


4 


and  the  Fang,  there  are  among  other  dialects  the  Shekani,  the  Balungi, 
M’benga,  Bakele,  Aduma  and  Ajumba.  The  mission  educator  is  also 
sorely  tried  by  the  lack  of  regularity  in  attendance  and  the  early  age  at 
which  most  of  the  scholars  leave  the  school.  One  of  the  Baraka  boys 
not  long  since  accepted  a position  in  the  government  office  at  what  was 
to  him  the  princely  salary  of  $8.00  per  month.  His  work  was  copying. 
He  wrote  a beautiful  hand,  but  he  was  so  inaccurate  and  careless  that 
he  was  soon  discharged.  All  the  arguments  of  the  teacher  could  not 
persuade  the  boy  to  remain  at  least  two  years  more  in  the  school  before 
taking  a position.  His  case  is  typical.  “A  little  knowledge  is  a danger- 
ous thing.”  To  the  African  very  dangerous,  for  he  is  satisfied  with  it. 
Neither  the  parent  nor  the  scholar  realize  the  necessity  of  any  continued 
training.  The  race  has  had  no  experience  nor  discipline.  Large  results 
cannot  be  expected  from  any  of  the  mission  schools  in  Africa,  either  in 
candidates  for  the  ministry  or  in  leaders  in  great  advance  enterprises, 
until  some  means  has  been  adopted  whereby  the  scholar  will  be  com- 
pelled to  remain  at  school  for  a definite  period.  The  Mission  recognizes 
this,  and  at  the  mission  meeting  held  at  Batanga  (February,  1905), 
action  was  taken  looking  to  the  establishment  of  an  industrial  school 
and  a school  for  the  training  of  Christian  workers  at  Elat.  To  these 
schools  scholars  from  all  the  stations  will  be  admitted  provided  they 
show  sufficient  diligence  in  the  primary  school  at  their  respective  stations, 
and  are  willing  to  remain  at  the  school  for  a definite  period,  to  be  deter- 
mined upon  by  the  missionary.  It  is  hoped  that  the  incentive  thus 
offered  will  spur  many  a pupil  on  to  desire  the  better  thing,  which  can 
only  be  obtained  by  years  of  painstaking  application. 

The  evangelistic  value  of  school  work  is  shown  in  the  fact  that  nearly 
if  not  quite  all  the  leading  members  of  the  Baraka  Church  to-day  were 
at  one  time  scholars  of  the  Mpongwe  school.  The  Fang  school  is  also  a 
great  evangelistic  agency.  The  scholars  come  from  Fang  towns  distant 
thirty,  forty,  sixty  and  even  eighty  miles  from  Baraka.  Five  or  six  or 
seven  months  spent 
under  the  direct 
teaching  and  personal 
influence  of  the  mis- 
sionary leave  an  in- 
delible impression  on 
the  mind  and  heart 
and  life.  The  Fang 
boy  when  he  first  en- 
ters the  school  is  a 
rough  specimen  of 
African  humanity. 

A wonderful  change 
takes  place  in  a few 
months.  It  was  not 
difficult  for  me  to  pick 
out , in  the  F ang  towns 
we  visited,  the  school 
boys.  The  school 
work  evidenced  itself  in  their  faces.  Of  the  thirty  Fang  boys  and  four 
girls  in  the  school  last  year,  twenty-four  expressed  a desire  to  confess 
Christ  and  were  given  special  training  in  an  inquiry  class.  For  a num- 
ber of  years  the  Fang  school  has  averaged  fifty  or  sixty  scholars,  all 

5 


of  whom  have  gone  back  to  their  towns,  carrying  with  them  some  Gospel 
light.  One  of  the  open  doors  to  the  Fang  is  the  school  boy.  He  was 
the  first  to  bid  us  welcome,  sighting  the  boat  long  before  we  reached 
the  beach,  and  he  was  the  last  to  bid  us  farewell  as  we  sailed  away. 

A few  months  ago  a Fang 
living  on  the  Rembwe  was 
passing  a house  where  lived  a 
Christian  Mpongwe  woman. 

This  woman  had  been  a school 
girl  at  Baraka.  She  was  read- 
ing aloud  the  Bible.  The 
Fang  remembered  to  have 
heard  this  read  when  he  was 
a boy.  He  came  to  Baraka 
and  asked  for  a teacher  to  be 
sent  to  his  town.  This  is  sug- 
gestive. All  Fang  boys  who 
hear  the  Gospel  do  not  be- 
come evangelists.  Some  fall 
away  and  return  to  heathen  darkness,  but  the  way  to  the  Fang  lies 
along  the  road  which  leads  to  the  school. 

The  girls  are  not  neglected.  While  it  is  not  possible  to  gather  as 
many  girls  as  boys,  still  they  come  in  goodly  numbers.  In  addition  to 
the  regular  school  studies  they  are  taught  to  sew,  to  cook  and  to  do 
laundry  work.  We  saw  the  pretty  work  done  by  the  Mpongwe  girls — 
a pillow  cover  especially  attracting  my  attention — more  than  two  hun- 
dred garments  made  by  their  busy  fingers. 

The  missionary  in  Africa  is  at  it  all  the  time.  In  the  evening  of  our 
first  day  in  Africa,  which  had  been  a busy  one,  we  were  hurried  off  to  a 
prayer  meeting.  I should  call  it  an  old-fashioned  cottage  prayer  meet- 
ing. The  rain  descended  in  torrents,  pools  of  water  were  everywhere 
in  evidence,  but  the  African  Christian  was  not  deterred  by  such  trifles. 

The  meeting  was  held  in 
a private  house  some  dis- 
tance away ; the  room  was 
full,  many  standing  out- 
side on  the  porch.  The 
leader  was  a godly  sister 
in  Israel,  one  of  the  “first 
fruits”  mentioned  by  the 
Rev.  R.  H.  Nassau,  D.D., 
in  his  “Crowned  in  Palm 
Land.”  The  service  was 
simple,  no  cant,  no  striv- 
ing after  effect,  no  notice 
of  the  stranger  within  the 
gates.  It  was  an  earnest, 
spiritual  meeting.  Now 
it  was  an  old  man  who 
prayed.  “ David,  Samuel, 
Paul,  Christ,”  I could  recognize  these  names  as  my  aged  bro they  poured 
out  his  petition  in  an  unknown  tongue.  Now  it  was  a young  man  who 
spoke.  He  was  brief,  he  was  earnest,  he  was  sincere.  He  turned  often 
to  the  Bible.  Now  a sister  gave  out  a hymn  or  spoke  a very  few  words 


Mpongwe  Mission  Boys , Baraka. 


6 


or  prayed.  The  hour  glided  by  quickly  with  no  pauses.  A hearty  greet- 
ing, wraps  on,  and  out  we  go  into  the  stormy  night.  This  work  goes  on 
week  by  week  in  the  different  homes,  not  always  in  the  homes  of  be- 
lievers, for  unbelievers  also  open  the  door  of  their  homes  to  the  mission- 
ary. It  is  seed  sown  on  good  ground. 

One  afternoon  the  wife  of  a missionary  took  me  to  a mothers’  meet- 
ing. Women  with  their  work,  with  their  babies,  with  their  careworn 
faces,  came  to  hear  the  Word.  Another  afternoon  I attended  a cate- 
chetical class  where  those  who  wish  to  join  the  church  are  trained,  rooted 
and  grounded  in  the  truth.  A look  at  their  faces  in  the  photograph  will 
convince  you  of  their  earnestness  and  intelligence.  The  catechetical 
class  is  a return  to  the  custom  of  the  early  Church  that  might  well  be 
heeded  by  Christians  of  the  homeland. 


Group  of  Christian  Women , Libreville. 


Another  day  we  sat  in  the  training  class  for  Christian  workers  and 
learned  how  thorough  is  the  training  given  and  how  inexhaustible  is  the 
supply  of  patience  of  the  missionary  teacher.  In  each  case  the  mission- 
ary, while  leading  and  asking  the  questions,  compelled  the  pupils  to  do 
the  work.  It  was  teaching,  not  preaching. 

The  Lord's  Day  was  the  great  day  of  the  feast.  The  church  was 
crowded  with  a well  dressed,  devout,  earnest  body  of  workers.  It  is  the 
best  organized  church  in  the  Mission.  Great  was  my  surprise  when  the 
offering  was  taken  to  note  so  many  envelopes  on  the  plate.  At  Creek- 
town,  Old  Calabar,  we  had  attended  the  service  and  the  offering  was 
taken  in  boxes,  three  feet  long  by  two  feet  wide.  The  money  consisted 
of  manillas,  horseshoe  rings  of  iron,  or  brass  rods  one  yard  in  length,  or 
cheatems  (bunches  of  wire),  this  being  the  currency  most  common 
among  the  natives  of  Creektown.  Among  the  Fang,  spearheads 
answer  for  money.  While  I knew  the  Gaboon  church  had  made  great 
advance,  I was  hardly  prepared  to  see  collection  plates  heaped  up  with 


7 


envelopes  and  brought  to  the  pulpit  by  the  native  church  officials  with 
the  dignity  and  solemnity  befitting  an  act  of  worship,  and  in  striking 
contrast  to  what  I have  often  noted  in  many  churches  at  home.  The 
membership  of  this  church  is  107.  During  the  year  1904  there  were 

ninety-six  regular  contribu- 
tors by  envelope,  twenty-four 
of  these  having  of  their  own 
accord  increased  the  amount 
of  their  offerings.  By  means 
of  faithful  and  systematic 
training  on  ‘ ‘ giving  as  an  act 
of  worship,”  this  Mpongwe 
church  now  pays  all  its  own 
expenses,  supports  a helper  in 
the  Fang  field  and  contributes 
to  other  religious  objects.  The 
amount  of  money  raised  is 
very  large  ($176.00  in  1904) 
considering  the  income  of  the 
average  member.  It  illus- 
trates what  can  be  done  in 
Africa  or  America  by  trans- 
forming the  “collection”  into 

A Catechetical  Class , Libreville , and  Native  Licentiate.  offering  to  the  Lord  as 

an  act  of  worship  and  as  a 
necessary  factor  in  the  growth  of  the  individual  Christian. 

The  number  of  the  Mpongwe  people  is  small.  The  tribe,  however, 
“is  the  most  influential  from  Kamerun  to  the  Congo.”  The  Baraka 
church  has  a great 
work  before  it.  A 
town  not  far  away, 
in  which  twenty-four 
persons  had  expressed 
a desire  to  become 
Christians,  sent  to  the 
Baraka  church  asking 
that  a missionary  be 
given  them.  No  white 
missionary  had  ever 
visited  this  town.  In 
the  school  last  year 
was  one  boy  from  the 
most  wicked  of  all  the 
tribes  in  the  Gaboon 
region.  An  effort  will 

be  made  this  year  to  Native  Money,  Neck  Bings,  Ivory  Bracelets , etc. 

secure  more  boys  from 

this  tribe,  and  thus  open  the  way  for  the  Gospel.  The  foreign  mission 
work  lies  at  the  front  door  of  the  Baraka  Christian. 


In  addition  to  the  church  at  Baraka,  there  is  the  Ayol  church  among 
the  Fang.  Ayol  is  some  sixty  miles  from  Baraka,  and  is  situated  in  the 
midst  of  the  Fang  territory.  The  Fang  are  scattered  over  a wide  extent 

8 


of  territory  and  probably  are  very  numerous,  although  there  has  been 
little  exploration  in  the  interior  either  by  the  missionary  or  the  trader. 
Miss  Kingsley,  in  her  book,  “Travels  in  West  Africa,”  gives  some  inter- 
esting data  about  the  Fang.  They  are  still  largely  an  unknown  people. 
The  Roman  Catholic  Mission  is  the  only  body  of  Christians  besides  the 
Presbyterians  at  work  among  them.  A few  years  ago  they  were  canni- 
bals, and  even  now  it  is  said  that  a short  distance  back  from  the  river 
front  in  the  dark  forest,  many  forms  of  cruelties  are  practised  by  them. 
The  only  roads  to  the  Fang  towns  thus  far  visited  by  our  missionaries 
are  water  ways.  The  gift  a few  years  ago  of  the  launch  “Dorothy” 
made  it  possible  for  the  missionaries  at  Baraka  to  reach  the  Fang  in  the 
towns  along  the  Gaboon,  Nkomo,  Ayol,  Gungwe  and  other  rivers. 

Atrip  on  the  “ Dorothy,”  while  full  of  interest,  giving  a bird’s-eye 
view  of  the  work,  makes  it  apparent  that  this  large  field  has  only  been 
partially  tilled  by  the  missionaries  of  the  Board.  For  the  past  six  years 
only  one  missionary  has  been  at  work  among  this  very  large  and  impor- 
tant people,  and  for  many  years  previous  the  work  was  almost  entirely 
neglected. 

A TRIP  ON  THE  “DOROTHY.” 

The  “ Dorothy”  is  a naphtha  launch  thirty  feet  long  and  draws  three 
feet  of  water. 

On  the  morning  we  started  on  our  trip  on  the  “Dorothy”  we  first 
stepped  very  carefully  into  a small  canoe  which  was  lying  in  the  water 
by  the  beach.  The  African  canoe  is  made  out  of  a tree.  The  boat 
builder  will  go  into  the  forest  and  cut  down  a large  tree.  He  will  then 
saw  off  as  much  of  the  trunk  as  he  needs  for  his  canoe,  usually  about 
twenty  feet.  With  a very  rough  axe  and  knife  he  digs  out  the  tree  and 
smooths  the  sides  until  he  has  quite  a good  boat.  But  your  hair  must 
be  parted  in  the  middle  and  you  must  sit  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe 
or  you  will  upset  the  frail  craft.  Two  boatmen  paddled  our  canoe  on 
the  morning  that  we  started  on  our  “Trip  on  the  Dorothy.” 

We  were  soon  aboard  and  found  the  “Dorothy”  a snug  little  craft. 
The  naphtha  engine  is  at  the  stern.  There  is  a small  room  between 
the  engine-room  and  the  main  and  only  cabin.  This  room  is  only  a few 
feet  wide.  Two  doors  open  into  the  engine-room  and  two  into  the  cabin. 
In  this  room  on  one  side  is  a small  kerosene  cooking  stove;  on  the  other 
side  is  a wash  basin  which  can  be  closed  and  fastened  to  the  wall  when 
not  in  use.  Next  this  is  the  cabin.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  cabin  near 
the  bow  is  the  wheel.  On  either  side  are  nice  long  seats  with  cushions, 
while  at  the  lower  end  are  two  closets  filled  with  crockery,  glassware, 
knives  and  forks.  A roof  covers  both  the  cabin,  the  little  room  and 
the  engine-room.  Many  bundles  and  packages  can  be  put  on  this  roof, 
and  at  evening  it  is  a very  pleasant  place  to  sit  and  watch  the  fish  jump- 
ing out  of  the  water  or  gaze  at  the  people  in  the  towns  along  the  rivers. 

In  the  cabin  is  the  picture  of  a little  girl,  Dorothy.  She  lived  in 
Orange,  New  Jersey,  and  was  much  loved  by  her  parents,  but  God 
thought  it  wise  to  take  her  to  Himself.  Her  father  and  mother  gave  the 
launch  to  the  Board  of  Foreign  Missions,  and  in  memory  of  their  dear 
little  daughter  it  was  called  “Dorothy.” 

It  did  not  take  us  long  to  hoist  the  anchor  of  the  “Dorothy.”  Our 
three  boatmen  tugged  away  at  it  and  soon  pulled  it  out  of  the  water. 


9 


These  three  men  were  curiously  dressed,  no  hats,  no  shoes,  no  stockings. 


One  of  them  had  a cloth  about  his  body  that  looked  for  all  the  world 
like  an  old  patch-work  quilt.  It  had  red  and  white  and  blue  squares 
just  like  a patch-work  quilt.  Another  wore  only  a blue  blouse  which 
came  to  his  knees, 
and  the  third  had 
a blue  cloth  about 
his  waist  and  a 
worsted  shirt. 

Two  of  these  men 
were  Christians 
and  at  the  meet- 
ings we  held  in 
the  various  towns 
they  aided  us  by 
singing  and  pray- 
ing, and  one  of 
them  interpreted 
for  me. 

“ Thump, 
thump,  thump,” 
went  our  little 
engine,  and  the  Dorothy. 

“Dorothy”  was  soon  pushing  her  way  through  the  water.  The  sketch 
map  will  show  you  just  where  we  went. 

The  town  of  Libreville  is  in  the  county  or  district  of  Gaboon.  You 
will  notice  on  the  map  the  name  “ Libreville.”  We  started  at  Libreville, 
which  is  in  the  bay  or  estuary  of  Gaboon,  and  this  leads  into  the  Gaboon 
River.  We  went  past  “ Parrot”  Island  and  turned  into  the  Ayol  River 
to  Ayol.  Then  we  went  back  to  the  Gaboon  River  and  sailed  many  miles 
till  we  came  to  where  the  Nkomo  and  Bakwe’  Rivers  meet  the  Gaboon. 
We  sailed  up  the  Nkomo  River  to  Atakama.  From  there  through  a 
small  creek  we  went  to  the  Bakwe’  River.  Then  back  again  to  the 
Gaboon  and  a long  way  down  to  the  Gungwe’  River.  From  here  we 
sailed  into  the  Gaboon  and  retraced  our  way  to  our  place  of  starting, 
Libreville.  We  saw  all  the  towns  placed  on  the  map  and  many  more 
besides.  It  was  our  privilege  to  hold  services  at  several  of  these  towns 
and  to  meet  the  Christian  people  who  live  there.  We  saw  much  to 
interest  us  and  were  most  pleased  to  find  such  a strong  body  of  Chris- 
tians in  this  part  of  the  mission  field  of  the  Presbyterian  Church. 

We  had  traveled  only  a few  miles  when  far  away,  close  to  the  shore, 
beyond  Parrot  Island,  we  saw  what  seemed  to  be  a row  of  white  sol- 
diers. As  the  “Dorothy”  drew  nearer  we  found  they  were  not  soldiers 
at  all  but  “cranes.”  I have  seen  a few  of  them  in  the  Zoological  Gar- 
dens at  Bronx  Park,  New  York  City,  but  this  day  I counted  no  less 
than  thirty-six,  all  standing  in  a row,  busily  engaged  in  “fishing.” 
Near  them  were  a few  “pelicans.”  The  sun  was  shining  brightly  as 
we  sailed  by  these  birds  and  their  white  feathers  shone  most  beautifully 
in  the  sunlight. 

In  the  rivers  there  was  much  to  attract  our  attention.  I saw  on  a 
tree  twenty  feet  from  the  ground  a large  ant  nest.  The  nest  was  made 
of  earth,  every  particle  of  wThich  was  carried  by  the  ants  up  the  twenty 
feet.  The  nest  was  at  least  two  or  three  feet  in  thickness.  Africa  is  a 
land  of  ants.  Every  time  we  went  ashore  we  saw  hundreds  of  ants. 


10 


Sometimes  so  many  of  them  come  into  the  house  that  the  missionary  has 
to  leave  it.  The  ants  go  into  every  room  and  eat  every  bug,  fly, 
insect  or  even  little  kittens.  In  one  missionary’s  house  the  “driver” 
ants — a small  ant  with  two  sharp  horns  near  the  top  of  the  head — 
killed  a number  of  little  kittens.  We  saw  thousands  of  these  “driver” 
ants  in  the  various  Fang  towns  we  visited.  They  march  along  like 
regiments  of  soldiers,  each  little  band  of  ten  or  more  having  a captain 
who  directs  them  where  to  go.  The  people  are  very  careful  to  step  over 
these  ants  and  not  on  them.  We  were  not  troubled  with  the  driver  ants 
while  in  the  Gaboon  district,  but  at  Efulen,  one  night  after  we  had  gone 
to  bed,  the  ants  invaded  the  bark  house  where  we  slept.  They  came  in 
through  the  windows  in  vast  numbers.  The  missionary,  his  wife  and 
two  children  and  ourselves  were  compelled  by  these  pesky  little  creatures 
to  leave  the  house.  In  the  morning  when  we  went  back  not  one  of  them 
was  to  be  found.  They  had  gone  through  the  house,  driving  out  every 
insect,  and  eating  up  everything  they  could  find.  The  missionaries  con- 
sider them  in  the  light  of  a blessing,  for  they  clear  the  house  of  all 
insect  life. 

One  evening  the  “ Dorothy”  took  us  into  a narrow  creek.  The  limbs 
of  the  trees  and  bushes  on  either  sides  scraped  the  sides  of  the  boat. 


There  were  mangrove  trees  whose  limbs  bent  over  into  the  water  and 
took  root.  On  many  of  these  limbs  we  saw  oysters  growing.  Yes, 
oysters  growing  on  trees ! These  oysters  are  small  and  grow  close 
together  on  the  limbs,  both  in  the  water  and  out  of  the  water.  As  we 
landed  on  the  muddy  shore  that  evening  any  number  of  small  crabs 
ran  away  from  us  into  their  holes,  and  a number  of  walking  fish  were  seen. 
It  seems  strange  to  see  fish  walk  in  the  mud. 

We  were  soon  in  the  town,  which  was  quite  large,  having  more  than 


ii 


sixty  houses.  Most  of  the  towns  do  not  have  over  twenty.  This  town 
was  what  the  Africans  call  “a  large  town.”  It  had  two  streets;  many 
of  the  towns  have  but  one.  It  had  a large  “palaver  house”  in  the 
middle  of  the  main  street.  Here  the  people  gather  to  discuss  all  sub- 
jects in  which  they  are  interested.  Every  town  has  a palaver  house. 
When  the  missionary  led  the  way  through  the  palaver  house  he  put 
his  hands  together  and  shouted  “Ha,  ha,  ha,  he.  he,  he,  eh,  eh,  eh.” 
The  men  in  the  house  also  shouted  “ eh,  eh,  eh,”  etc.  Then  the  missionary 
said  “M’bolo.” 

We  did  not  hold  the  meeting  in  the  palaver  house  but  went  to 
the  house  of  one  of  the  Christians.  His  house  was  built  of  bamboo 
with  a palm  mat  roof.  Only  two  rooms,  but  everything  was  clean  and 
neat.  This  house,  like  all  the  houses  here,  was  small,  and  many  of  the 
people  had  to  stand  outside  during  the  meeting.  The  name  of  the 
Christian  in  whose  house  we  held  the  service  was  Robbie  Board  man. 
He  is  blind.  More  than  twelve  years  ago  he  was  led  to  take  Christ  as 
his  Saviour.  He  was  then  a bad  man.  He 
did  many  wicked  things,  but  when  he  be- 
came a Christian  his  heart  was  changed. 

He  desired  to  tell  others  about  Jesus.  He 
went  to  school.  Some  good  people  taught 
him  to  read  by  means  of  raised  letters  such 
as  blind  people  use.  He  has  now  many 
books  of  the  Bible  in  raised  letters.  A few 
months  ago  the  white  ants  ate  up  a number 
of  his  books,  but  kind  friends  have  prom- 
ised to  give  new  ones  to  him.  The  white 
ant  is  very  destructive.  At  Gaboon  and 
at  Lolodorf  I saw  great  beams  which  had 
been  ruined  by  white  ants.  At  Old  Calabar 
we  saw  a white  ant  hill  more  than  ten  feet 
high.  Within  this  hill  lives  the  queen  ant, 
the  mother  of  many  millions. 

Robbie  has  a very  kindly  face.  I wish 
you  could  see  him  as  he  sings  or  prays  or 
preaches.  I asked  him  what  chapter  in 
the  Bible  he  loved  the  best  and  he  said  “the  eleventh  of  Hebrews.” 
He  has  also  some  favorite  verses,  such  as  John  the  third  chapter  and 
sixteenth  verse  and  John  the  fourteenth  chapter,  first  and  second 
verses.  His  favorite  hymn  is 


“Jesus,  the  very  thought  of  Thee 
With  sweetness  fills  my  breast  ; 
But  sweeter  far  thy  face  to  see 
And  on  thy  bosom  rest.” 


Robbie  repeated  these  words  to  me  in  English  and  they  never  seemed 
so  beautiful.  He  will  see  no  faces  in  this  world,  but  in  the  many 
mansioned  home  he  will  one  day  see  “ Him  face  to  face.”  Even  now  he 
joyfully  sings  with  us,  “I  shall  see  Him  face  to  face,  And  tell  the  story, 
saved  by  grace.”  He  knows  nearly  all  the  New  Testament  by  heart. 
We  have  a little  hymn  book  in  the  Fang  language.  Robbie  knows  all 
the  verses  of  the  hymns  and  the  numbers  as  well.  He  needs  no  book 


12 


to  lead  a meeting.  The  hymns  are  the  same  as  we  sing  at  home  only  the 
words  are  in  the  Fang  language.  One  of  the  hymns  we  sang  was  “He 
leadeth  me.”  This  is  the  chorus  as  we  sang  it: 


“ A bi  me  wo,  a ke  ye  me, 

Nde  nzam’  emien  a ke  ye  me  ! 
M’e’  mbete  vot,  me*  mbete  to 
Ye  nzam’  emien  a ke  ye  me.” 


The  people  love  to  sing  and  they  sing  well.  Not  being  able  to  read 
it  is  necessary  that  some  one  should  teach  them.  This  is  Robbie’s 
work.  He  spends  two  or  more  months  in  each  town.  In  the  morning 
he  teaches  the  people  the  Bible  and  in  the  evening,  hymns.  Those  who 
are  Christians  are  very  eager  to  learn  and  Robbie  is  a faithful,  patient 
teacher. 

The  Fang  people  who  live  in  the  towns  we  visited  were  very  ignorant 
and  very  poor.  At  the  service  it  was  pleasant  to  hear  them  repeat  the 
Lord’s  Prayer  in  their  own  language,  and  to  note  how  many  verses  of  the 
hymns  they  knew.  We  have  a Fang  school  at  Baraka,  and  in  many  of 
the  towns  we  were  warmly  greeted  by  our  school  boys.  One  boy  took 
me  by  the  hand  and  led  me  to  the  little  hut  where  his  mother  lived. 
She  was  a funny  little  woman,  with  her  hair  all  covered  with  red  clay, 
her  neck  adorned  with  pink  beads,  a red  cloth  about  her  waist  and  brass 
rings  on  her  arms  and  legs.  But  she  smiled  pleasantly  when  her  son 
told  her  who  I was  and  she  bowed  and  said  “ M’bolo  ” when  we  wTent  away. 
The  house  where  our  school  boy  lived  had  only  one  room,  no  chair,  no 
table,  only  two  beds  made  of  bamboo,  an  iron  pot  to  cook  the  food 
and  a bow  and  arrow  used  in  hunting.  In  one  corner  was  a large  bunch 
of  plantains. 

Each  Fang  town  has  a head  man  or  chief.  He  rules  the  town.  Out- 
side of  each  town  is  a garden  where  plantains  grow,  and  bananas, 
cocoa,  coffee,  bread-fruit,  cocoanuts  and  other  fruits  and  vegetables. 
The  headman  would  often  send  us  some  plantains  or  bananas,  and  we 
would  send  him  a piece  of  cloth,  red  or  pink  or  yellow.  Once  a man 
gave  us  some  fish  and  we  gave  him  a box  of  matches  and  a bottle  of 
pomade.  They  need  matches,  and  are  very  fond  of  rubbing  the  pomade 
on  their  hair. 

We  slept  on  board  the  “Dorothy”  every  night  of  the  trip.  Under 
the  seats  in  the  cabin  were  closets  where  bed  clothes  were  kept  We 
also  had  extra  boards  to  draw  out,  making  the  seat  wider.  The  cushions 
were  put  on  these  boards,  then  the  bed  clothes,  then  curtains  were  hung 
to  keep  out  mosquitoes,  and  we  went  to  bed  and  slept  as  soundly  as 
though  we  were  at  home  in  America. 

One  morning  we  were  awakened  very  early  by  a loud  noise.  We 
looked  off  toward  the  shore  and  there  was  the  home  of  hundreds  of 
parrots.  They  were  up  bright  and  early  before  the  sun  and  there  was 
no  more  sleep  that  morning.  Several  hundred  parrots  make  a noise  like  a 
railroad  train  and  they  keep  it  up  for  a long  time. 

Some  days  the  engine  of  the  “Dorothy”  would  not  work.  Then  the 
missionary  physician  would  become  a fireman  or  engineer  or  mechanic 
or  electrician,  and  work  away  at  the  engine  or  the  electrical  battery  till 
the  “thump,  thump,  thump ” would  begin  and  we  would  go  on  our  way. 
A missionary  in  Africa  has  to  do  many  things  for  the  sake  of  Christ  that 


13 


are  not  at  all  pleasant,  but  the  good  missionary  does  not  complain 
because  all  the  time  he  sees  that  the  people  are  learning  about  Jesus. 

At  times  we  would  sail  many  hours  and  not  see  a single  town.  The 
scenery  was  grand.  Very  tall  trees  covered  with  great  vines  that  seemed 
to  clasp  the  trees  in  their  embrace,  great  umbrella  trees  that  looked 
for  all  the  world  like  a big 
umbrella  opened  to  keep  off 
the  rain,  beautiful  palm  trees 
that  made  us  think  we  were 
in  the  Holy  Land , rare  flowers 
of  many  colors  and  some  very 
fragrant,  and  all  so  wild  and 
green  and  luxuriant  that 
Africa  seemed  a most  fair 
land.  Then  we  would  stop 
at  a town  and  see  poor  hea- 
then women  with  hardly  a 
bit  of  clothing  dancing  a 
strange,  wicked  dance,  while 
a man  stood  by  beating  a 
great  drum.  Such  hideous 
noises  the  dancers  made,  such 
fierce  looks  out  of  their  eyes, 
such  evidence  of  awful  sin 
that  we  said,  “Africa  may 
be  beautiful  but  here  men 
and  women  are  vile.”  We 
longed  to  tell  these  poor  peo- 
ple the  story  of  Jesus.  They 
are  so  superstitious!  They 
wear  little  horns  on  their 
necks  or  a bit  of  a bone  on 
their  arm,  or  keep  the  skull 
of  a father  or  a mother  in  their  hut,  believing  that  by  doing  this  they 
can  obtain  the  favor  of  God  or  ward  off  some  evil  from  the  devil. 

The  saddest  faces  we  saw  were  those  of  the  women  and  little  girls. 
The  poor  women  and  girls  are  sold  just  as  the  goats  and  chickens  are  sold. 
I asked  one  of  our  Christian  boatmen  what  was  the  price  of  a woman  in 
his  town.  He  said  when  a man  wanted  a wife  he  bought  her  from  her 
father  or  brother,  or  the  head  man  of  the  town,  or  whoever  owned  her. 
The  woman  could  do  nothing.  She  was  sold  at  the  price  her  owner  asked. 
The  women  do  most  of  the  work.  We  saw  them  early  in  the  morning 
carrying  heavy  loads,  and  often  in  addition  a baby  strapped  to  their 
backs  We  saw  them  hard  at  work  in  the  gardens  in  the  hot  part  of  the 
day;  we  saw  them  at  evening  go  out  with  their  fish  nets  or  baskets  to 
catch  fish.  The  husbands,  meanwhile,  were  lazily  smoking  their  pipes 
or  lounging  in  the  palaver  house  talking,  or  when  not  too  weary, 
hunting  birds  or  animals,  which  when  caught  the  wife  had  to  cook  and 
rarely  was  given  any  to  eat.  Their  faces  were  very  sad,  and  no  wonder. 
Even  little  girls  not  over  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age  are  sold  by  their 
parents  or  brothers.  The  father  needs  money.  A man  comes  and 
offers  him  a small  sum  for  his  daughter  and  he  sells  her  for  life  to  one 
who  may  be  a cruel  man.  She  now  belongs  to  him  and  he  can  sell  her 
whenever  he  so  desires.  This  is  the  lot  of  women  and  girls  in  all  the  Fang 


As  Seen  from  the  “ Dorothy a Fang  Tillage. 


14 


towns  in  Africa.  Here  is  the  price  paid  for  a woman  as  told  me  by  one 
of  our  Fang  boatmen: — 

“Thirty  pieces  of  cloth,  each  piece  about  four  yards;  twenty  flint- 
lock guns,  five  bags  of  salt,  twenty  heads  of  tobacco,  three  hats,  thirty 
iron  pots,  twenty  jugs,  thirty  cutlasses,  three  cheap  coats,  three  goats, 
two  hundred  cheap  plates.” 

These  Africans  need  the  missionary  to  teach  them  better  things. 
The  work  of  the  “Dorothy”  is  to  carry  the  missionary  from  town  to 
town  in  order  that  he  may  preach  the  Gospel.  The  “Dorothy  ” also  does 
a good  work  in  bringing  the  boys  and  girls  from  Fang  towns  on  the 
Gaboon  and  Nkomo  and  Bakwe  and  other  rivers  down  to  the  school  at 
Baraka  in  Libreville.  A week  before  we  took  our  “Trip  on  the  ‘ Dor- 
othy’ ” thirty-five  Fang  boys  were  taken  to  their  homes  by  the  “Dorothy.” 
They  had  been  at  school  at  Baraka  and  now  were  going  home  for  a vaca- 
tion. Each  boy  will  help  to  make  his  town  better  because  he  has  been 
at  the  school.  There  are  hundreds  of  Fang  boys  and  girls  in  these  towns 
who  can  neither  read  nor  write  and  who  have  never  heard  of  Jesus. 

The  Fang  are  interesting  people.  They  are  ready  for  the  Gospel. 
You  can  see  the  eagerness  manifest  in  the  faces  as  shown  in  the  photo- 
graph. A day  with  the  Fang,  while  convincing  us  of  the  awful  degrada- 
tion of  this  people,  also  made  clear  that  good  Gospel  work  was  also  being 
done  and  that  here  was  a great  door  and  effectual  open  for  the  Gospel. 
Here  is  a record  of  one  of  our  days  among  the  Fang  people: 

A DAY  WITH  THE  FANG. 

The  sun  had  barely  risen  when  we  entered  the  town  of  Jamanen. 
As  we  climbed  the  steep  bank  leading  to  the  town  the  quick  ear  of  the 
missionary,  like  one  of  old  on  the  mountain  side,  heard  the  sound  of 
music  and  dancing.  In  a few  moments  we  had  passed  through  the  small 
village  with  its  ugly  palaver  house  in  the  midst  of  the  main  street,  and 
were  at  the  open  space  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  town. 

Here  a strange  sight  met  our  eyes.  Some  thirty  women  arranged 
in  the  form  of  a double  crescent  were  engaged  in  a native  dance.  In 
the  center  was  one  young  woman,  not  out  of  her  teens,  whose  meagre 
attire,  graceful  movements  and  wild  song  at  once  pointed  her  out  as 
the  leader.  On  her  head,  waving  in  the  breeze,  was  a bunch  of  purple 
feathers;  on  either  arm  there  stood  out  a whisk  of  dried  palm  or  plantain 
fibre ; her  neck  was  adorned  with  three  necklaces  of  varied  colored  beads 
so  dear  to  the  African  woman’s  heart.  Her  single  garment  was  a bit 
of  blue  cloth  prettily  draped  about  her  body  and  reaching  to  the  knees, 
while  on  either  limb  were  three  brass  rings,  and  one  made  of  nuts, 
which  latter  clicked  merrily  as  the  dancer  moved  to  and  fro.  Orna- 
ments of  the  other  women  varied  but  were  not  so  elaborate  as  hers. 

A native  drum  three  or  four  feet  high,  cut  out  of  a tree  trunk  and 
hollowed,  the  lower  end  closed  and  the  top  covered  with  a tightly  drawn 
skin,  was  thumped  continuously  by  an  elderly  man  who  ever  kept  his 
eye  on  the  dancing  group  beside  him.  The  dancers  sang  a strange 
melody  unlike  anything  I have  heard  either  among  colored  people  at 
the  South  or  in  Africa.  Their  facial  expressions  as  well  as  motions  of 
the  body  suggested  the  lascivious  nature  of  this  hideous  exhibition  of 
raw  heathenism. 

One  little  lad — a member  of  our  Fang  school  at  Baraka — was  the 
sole  one  to  greet  us  in  this  town. 


5 


In  the  cool  of  the  afternoon  we  held  a service  at  Sizakon  on  the 
Bokwe’.  An  eager  group  gathered  about  us.  I counted  over  sixty-five 
at  the  meeting — most  of  them  Christians.  Not  one  of  the  women  could 
read  but  all  knew  every  verse  of  the  half-dozen  hymns  we  sang,  and  I 
never  heard  more  hearty  singing  of  the  songs  of  Zion.  It  was  wonderful 
how  eagerly  these  simple-minded  Christians  listened  to  the  Gospel.  I 
noticed  a leper.  His  wrinkled  face,  sadly  marked  with  the  frightful 
disease,  glowed  with  joy  as  we  spoke  of  Him  who  bore  the  heavy  burdens 
of  suffering  humanity. 

The  most  interesting  figure  was  the  headman  or  chief  of  the  town. 
He  is  blind.  Several  years  ago  he  became  a Christian  and  put  away 
five  of  his  six  wives.  Each  day  he  teaches  his  people  the  words  of  the 
Gospel.  His  prayer  was  simple  and  spiritual.  His  life  evinces  the  sin- 
cerity of  his  profession.  At  the  close  of  the  sermon  the  entire  audience 
with  bowed  head  and  subdued  voice  repeated  the  Lord’s  Prayer. 

The  old  chief,  led  by  one  of  the  Christians,  accompanied  us  to  the 
“Dorothy.”  The  Christian  had  under  his  arm  a strange  bundle.  It  was 
bound  with  leaves.  He  and  the  chief  and  the  missionary  had  a short 
talk,  and  the  two  went  back  to  their  town  and  we  went  on  our  way. 
The  bundle  was  a fetish — the  last  link  with  the  old  heathenism.  It  was 
the  skull  of  the  father  of  this  Christian  Fang.  John  Ross,  in  his  Mis- 
sionary Methods  in  Manchuria , tells  us  that  he  always  dealt  tenderly 

with  Christians  in  re- 
gard to  their  ancestral 
tablets.  I thought  of 
this  as  we  took  this 
most  precious  relic 
from  our  Fang  bro- 
ther. Surely  it  is  a 
wonderful  gospel  that 
can  break  the  powTer 
of  such  a deep-rooted 
custom. 

It  was  dark  that 
night  when  we  left  the 
“Dorothy”  and,  in  a 
small  canoe,  made 
our  way  up  a small 
creek  to  another  town. 
The  service  over,  we 
came  to  the  riverside, 
followed  by  a group 
of  Christian  women. 
One  stood  on  a rock 
holding  in  her  hand  a 
torch  made  from  the 
white  resin  of  the  ma- 
hogany tree  and 
bound  with  plantain  leaves.  As  we  pushed  off  from  the  beach  and 
turned  into  the  creek  hers  was  the  last  figure  we  saw,  while  far  away  up 
the  stream  was  the  tiny  light  of  the  “Dorothy.” 

The  night  was  dark  and  the  Fang  woman,  waving  her  little  torch, 
seemed  to  me  a picture  of  darkest  Africa.  Here  and  there  a “Dorothy” 
bears  a little  light;  here  and  there  in  these  scattered  towns,  some  brave 

16 


Fang  Dance. 


man  or  faithful  woman  is  holding  the  torch  which  lights  the  way  for  a few 
eager  souls.  I still  see  my  Fang  sister  in  the  darkness  of  that  African 
night  with  her  lighted  torch,  standing  alone  on  the  rock. 

How  long  must  she  stand  alone? 

TWO  PALAVERS. 

One  of  the  onerous  duties  of  the 
missionary  is  listening  to  palavers. 

The  visiting  secretary  was  present  at 
a number  of  palavers.  Two  occurred 
among  the  Fang  people.  They  illus- 
trate certain  distinct  phases  of  the 
African  character. 

The  “palaver”  is  everything  in 
Africa.  No  undertaking  of  any  im- 
portance can  be  carried  on  without 
the  palaver.  Before  a canoe  is  pur- 
chased, or  a wife  taken,  or  a dispute 
settled,  there  must  be  a palaver.  The 
meanest  town  in  the  ‘ ‘ Bush  ’ ’ where 
a few  straggling  huts,  a stray  goat, 
a half-dozen  children  and  two-score 
men  and  women  constitute  the  entire 
community,  is  not  without  its  palaver  house.  At  “Duketown,”  in 
Old  Calabar,  the  palaver  house  was  a tumble-down  house  filled  with 
rubbish  and  dirt,  unfit  to  shelter  pigs,  yet  when  the  drum  was  sounded 
the  people  crowded  into  this  building  to  hold  a palaver.  Time  is 
no  element  in  the  make-up  of  the  African,  and  these  palavers  often 
occupy  a whole  day  or  more.  The  matter  in  dispute  may  be  the 
merest  trifle,  but  the  palaver  must  be  held  and  the  question  settled  in 
proper  form. 

Miss  Isabella  Nassau,  so  long  the  honored  and  devoted  missionary 
worker  in  Batanga,  is  famous  at  “cutting”  palavers,  the  people 
having  such  confidence  in  her  judgment  and  perfect  justice  that  they 
willingly  submit  their  disputes  to  her,  and  when  she  “cuts”  the  rag  held 
by  the  two  contestants,  the  one  having  the  shorter  piece  goes  away  as 
well  pleased  as  the  possessor  of  the  longer  piece — the  sign  that  the  pal- 
aver has  been  decided  in  his  favor. 

The  first  palaver  was  at  Angom  in  Congo  Francais,  on  the  Nkomo 
river  in  the  Gaboon  district. 

Angom  was  occupied  as  a mission  station  in  1881.  The  Mission 
property  is  on  rising  ground  some  distance  away  from  the  river  and  back 
of  the  town  of  Fula.  It  is  a veritable  “garden  of  the  Lord,”  for  beauty 
and  luxuriance.  If  there  is  any  fruit,  flower  or  vegetable  growing  on 
the  West  Coast  of  Africa,  that  is  not  found  growing  on  these  goodly  acres, 
it  has  escaped  my  eye.  The  mission  houses  are  fairly  surrounded  with 
trees  laden  with  richest  fruit,  oranges,  limes,  cocoanuts,  pine-apples, 
bread  fruit,  paw-paws,  avocado  pears,  mangoes,  coffee,  cocoa,  and  much 
else.  The  blue  myrtle  was  crushed  under  our  feet  as  we  walked,  the 
“pride  of  Barbadoes”  delighted  our  eyes  as  we  looked  about  and  trop- 
ical flowers  of  many  varieties  and  richest  hues  were  growing  everywhere 
in  great  profusion.  The  Rev.  A.  W.  Marling  and  wife  labored  here  for 
sixteen  years,  and  much  that  we  saw  was  the  result  of  their  painstaking 


Native  Fang  Dance. 


17 


efforts.  Mr.  Marling  died  in  1896.  The  station  was  closed  in  1898. 
Every  bit  of  furniture  left  in  the  houses  remains  untouched,  a large  col- 
lection of  planks,  windows,  boxes  and  innumerable  articles  lie  under 
the  houses  or  in  store-rooms.  Not  a single  article  has  been  stolen  since 
the  Board  closed  the  station,  and  herein  lies  the  subject  of  our  palaver. 

The  old  chief  of  the  town  of  “Fula”  wished  to  see  the  “Big  Chief” 
from  America,  wished  a “Palaver.”  It  was  a weird  scene.  The  two 
missionaries  from  Libreville,  the  “Big  Chief”  from  America  and  his 
wife,  the  group  of  natives  from  the  town  of  Fula,  with  the  old  chief  in  the 
center,  all  standing  under  the  great  bread-fruit  tree,  near  the  mission  house, 


Procuring  Guide  for  Dwarf  Village. 


discussing  the  question  of  the  mission  property.  The  old  chief  declared 
that  he  had  not  permitted  even  a board  to  be  taken.  He  had  kept  his 
people  from  taking  as  much  as  a shoe-lachet.  He  wished  many  mis- 
sionaries to  come  and  sit  down  there,  his  people  needed  a teacher.  Mr. 
Marling  was  a good  man;  did  we  have  any  more  such  men?  But  he 
could  not  keep  his  people  off  our  property  much  longer.  We  must  do 
something. 

The  “Big  Chief”  from  America  promised  him  that  something  should 
be  done.  In  two  moons  there  would  be  a palaver  at  Batanga  (mis- 
sion meeting);  in  eight  moons  another  palaver  at  New  York;  then 
he  would  hear  from  us.  It  was  interesting  to  watch  the  face  of  the  old 
man  as  the  interpreter  translated  these  words.  He  had  an  honest  face 
and  his  frank  statement  of  his  inability  to  keep  the  property  intact  much 
longer  was  truly  African  and  worthy  of  all  praise.  The  palaver  over, 
we  invited  him  on  board  the  “Dorothy,”  and  “dashed”  him  four  pieces 
of  blue  cloth,  and  one  of  red,  and  two  bottles  of  pomade.  He  went 
away  as  pleased  as  a child  with  a new  toy. 

The  second  palaver  was  at  Zamelega  on  the  Gungwe  river,  some 
thirty-five  miles  from  Libreville.  On  landing  we  noticed  a certain  cold- 
ness in  our  reception.  Many  men  stood  aloof;  others  scowled  at  us; 
still  others  sought  to  interrupt  our  service.  In  all  the  Fang  towns  we 

18 


had  visited  we  were  received  most  cordially  save  here.  The  few  Chris- 
tians in  the  town  came  to  the  service,  but  most  of  the  people  did  not. 
When  we  reached  the  canoe  preparatory  to  leaving,  we  found  out  the 
cause  of  the  trouble  and  a palaver  ensued. 

The  canoe  which  we  used  in  going  ashore  from  the  “Dorothy”  had  been 
obtained  on  trial  the  week  before  from  a man  known  to  the  Mission.  He 
said  he  owned  the  canoe.  It  was  taken  by  the  missionary  on  trial  and 
was  to  be  paid  for  if  it  proved  satisfactory.  A man  at  Zamelega  claimed 
that  the  canoe  belonged  to  him.  Hence  the  palaver.  One  native 
sat  on  the  bow  of  the  canoe  with  a gun.  Three  others  stood  on  the  bank 
with  guns.  The  entire  population  of  the  town  stood  on  the  rising  ground 
by  the  beach,  and  at  times  all  talked.  The  spokesman  was  a chief  from 
Gaboon — a shrewd,  wily  old  man,  who  talked  very  loudly  and  made 
many  gestures.  He  was  at  Zamelega  collecting  taxes.  The  French 
Government  requires  the  owner  of  each  house  to  pay  a certain  tax,  and 
each  man  not  owning  a house  has  to  pay  a poll  tax.  This  Gaboon  king 
was  assisted  by  a native  of  the  town  who  also  talked  much.  Through 
our  interpreter  we  protested  that  this  was  not  our  palaver.  We 
would  take  the  canoe  to  Libreville,  turn  it  over  to  the  Government  and 
have  the  matter  settled  by  a judicial  process.  They  would  not  listen  to 
any  such  proposition.  The  French  Commandant  was  in  the  town  as- 
sisting in  the  collection  of  taxes  and  we  called  him  in.  He  too  failed  to 
see  our  side  of  the  palaver,  and  matters  were  getting  very  warm  when 
one  of  the  Christian  Fang  offered  to  loan  us  his  canoe,  and  we  agreed  to 
leave  the  canoe  under  dispute  at  Zamelega,  on  consideration  that  the 
French  official  would  give  us  a receipt  for  the  same. 

On  reaching  Libreville  we  learned  that  the  man  who  loaned  the 
canoe  to  the  Mission  was  having  a palaver  over  the  getting  of  a wife, 
and  the  ownership  of  the  canoe  was  probably  in  some  way  associated 
with  his  palaver.  His  story  is  of  interest  as  illustrative  of  African 
customs. 

The  father  of  the  man  who  claimed  to  own  the  canoe,  which  we  left 
unwillingly  at  Zamelega,  died,  leaving  two  children,  a son  and  daughter. 
The  mother  was  sold  by  the 
maternal  uncle  to  another  man 
and  a dowry  of  guns  or  boats 
or  goats  given  in  payment. 

The  uncle  then  took  the 
daughter — his  niece — to  wife. 

By  native  law — custom — the 
brother  had  the  right  to  sell 
the  sister.  In  lieu  of  this  the 
uncle  gave  to  the  brother — 
his  nephew — a wife.  Mean- 
while, the  mother  died.  Her 
second  husband  demanded 
from  the  uncle  the  dowry  he 
had  paid.  He  failed  to  get 
it  and  to  satisfy  his  claim 
seized  the  wife  of  the  son. 

The  son,  whose  wife  was  stolen,  was  so  deeply  grieved  that  he  went  to 
the  town  where  lived  his  step-father  and  the  stealer  of  his  wife  and  stole 
a wife  from  that  town.  The  town  was  Zamelega  and  every  man  in  the 
town  was  up  in  arms  to  avenge  the  theft.  Meanwhile,  the  stolen  wife 


*9 


with  the  husband  went  to  Gaboon,  the  husband  hoping  that  his  uncle, 
the  cause  of  all  the  trouble,  would  rectify  matters.  No  such  happy 
issue  was  in  store  for  him.  He  was  arrested  and  thrown  into  prison,  but 
afterwards  released  and  moved  to  a town  where  lived  a paternal  uncle. 
This  paternal  uncle  was  about  to  make  war  on  the  town  of  Zamelega, 
but  was  dissuaded 
from  doing  this  by  his 
nephew,  who  prob- 
ably took  a simpler 
course  and  stole  the 
canoe,  which  was  the 
cause  of  our  palaver. 

The  case  was  still 
pending  when  we  left 
Gaboon. 

The  Fang  work  is 
in  its  infancy.  A 
committee  sent  out 
by  the  Mission  last 
year  to  inspect  the  Fang  work  estimated  that  the  towns  seen  by  them 
had  a population  of  ten  thousand.  The  Fang  are  pressing  down  from 
the  interior  to  the  coast.  They  seem  to  me  to  be  an  energetic  race  cap- 
able of  great  development.  Their  language  is  closely  allied  to  the 
Bulu,  spoken  by  so  many  tribes  in  Kamerun.  Much  pioneering  work 
has  already  been  done.  During  the  last  year  a Christian  Fang  brought 
to  Baraka  three  boxes  containing  human  skulls.  These  skulls  had  been 
the  objects  of  worship  of  men  who  revered  them  as  most  sacred,  the 
skulls  of  their  ancestors.  But  as  the  men  of  Ephesus,  after  they  had 
accepted  the  Gospel,  brought  their  sacred  relics  to  the  missionaries  to  be 

burned,  so  these  con- 
verted Fang  gave  this 
visible  evidence  of  a 
change  of  heart  in  thus 
breaking  with  their 
past.  In  conversation 
with  one  of  the  best  of 
our  native  helpers  I 
learned  that  while 
many  of  the  Fang 
Christians  fall  into 
sin,  especially  immor- 
ality, yet  others  are 
found  faithful,  and  if 
there  were  mission- 
aries sufficient  to 
adequately  equip  the 
field  a large  and  abun- 
dant harvest  would 
soon  be  gathered. 

No  medical  missionary  has  labored  for  any  length  of  time  in  recent 
years  at  Gaboon,  yet  the  other  missionaries  do  not  a little  to  bring  relief 
to  many  poor  sufferers.  It  was  most  gratifying  to  note  the  large  amount 
of  excellent  work  done  by  the  laymen  in  relieving  the  sickness  of  poor 
distressed  ones  at  Gaboon. 


Brass  Trays , Hammered  by  Natives , Dwarf  Cooking  Pot , Spoons. 


20 


It  was  touching  to  see  the  interest  manifested  by  the  Gaboon 
Christians  in  the  visit  of  the  secretary.  These  good  people  insisted 
on  bringing  gifts,  mats,  cloth,  spoons,  baskets,  spears,  brass  trays 

and  numerous  ar- 
ticles fashioned  by 
their  own  hands,  in 
order  that  they  might 
express  their  appre- 
ciation of  the  work 
done  by  the  Board. 
Even  the  children 
vied  with  their  elders 
in  thus  giving  sub- 
stantial proof  of  their 
gratitude  to  those 
who  had  sent  to  them 
the  blessed  Gospel 
of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 
We  can  never  forget 
the  last  moment 
spent  on  the  porch 
of  the  Baraka  mission  house  when  one  dear  soul,  after  having  brought  a 
generous  gift,  sang  in  English,  with  tremulous  voice: 

“ When  we  asunder  part 
It  gives  us  inward  pain, 

But  we  shall  still  be  joined  in  heart 
And  hope  to  meet  again.” 

The  tears  streamed  down  her  face  as  these  familiar  English  words 
came  from  her  aged  lips,  she  and  we  realizing  that  our  next  meeting 
would  be  around  the  great  white  throne  when  those  from  every  tribe 
and  tongue  and  people  and  nation  shall  sing  the  “new  song.” 

The  number  of  members  reported  on  the  roll  of  the  Gaboon  church  is 
not  large,  but  no  one  could  visit  Gaboon  without  being  impressed  with 
the  genuineness,  sincerity  and  evangelistic  spirit  of  these  fellow  Chris- 
tians of  ours  on  the  equator. 


Native  Grass  Cloth  and  Cotton  Cloth , Bead  Work  and  Basket  Work. 


21 


The  stout  surf  boat  “ Lafayette  ” took  us  safely  from  Libreville  to 
Corisco,  some  sixty  miles  northwest  of  the  equator,  and  some  twenty  miles 
from  the  mainland.  In  going  to  Corisco  we  passed  from  French  to  Spanish 
territory.  The  French  territory  extends  from  the  river  Campo  to  a short 
distance  north  of  Landana,  a stretch  of  nine  hundred  miles  save  about  one 
hundred  miles,  which 
is  under  Spanish  con- 
trol. In  this  one 
hundred  miles  are 
embraced  all  the 
churches  of  the  Benito 
District  in  which  Co- 
risco is  included. 

Corisco  is  four 
miles  long  and  three 
miles  -wide  ; at  its 
northern  end  it  is 
rocky  and  steep,  while 
at  the  south  the  land 
is  flat  and  sandy. 

Palm  trees  abound. 

For  manv  vears 
the  West  Africa  Mis-  ^ of  r^°  Christians- 

sion  was  known  as  the  “Gaboon  and  Corisco  Mission.”  The  Presbytery 
embracing  the  territory  now  occupied  by  the  Mission  is  still  known 
as  the  Corisco  Presbytery.  At  one  time  there  were  four  centres  of  work 
on  the  island  and  it  was  hoped  that  Corisco  would  become  the  leading 
station  of  the  Mission  The  population  of  the  island  to-day  is  about 
four  hundred,  nearly  one-half  of  whom  are  members  of  the  Corisco 
Church  and  congregation. 

The  Corisco  Christian  carries  on  his  work  amid  great  difficulties. 
No  school  is  permitted,  no  missionary  physician  is  allowed  to  charge 
for  medicine,  no  church  bell  can  be  rung.  In  many  ways  the  “powers 
that  be”  seemingly  seek  to  interfere  with  the  work  of  the  Church.  Yet 
in  the  face  of  the  obstacles  presented  by  the  Government  and  bit- 
ter opposition  by  an  ignorant  and  debased  priesthood,  this  stal- 
wart band  of  Christians  are  giving  good  evidence  of  the  faith  which 
is  in  them. 

We  did  not  arrive  at  the  island  till  very  late  one  evening  and  no 
notice  was  sent  out  of  a meeting  until  the  following  morning,  but  by 
9 130  an  audience  of  sixty-seven  persons  had  assembled.  It  was  a service 
not  soon  to  be  forgotten.  There  was  no  doubt  the  people  were  deeply 
interested.  They  had  left  their  work  to  honor  the  presence  of  the  rep- 
resentative of  the  Board.  The  rapt  attention,  the  vigorous  singing,  the 
warm  grasp  of  the  hand,  the  willingness  which  they  manifested  in  stand- 
ing long  in  front  of  the  church  in  order  that  we  might  get  a good  photo- 
graph to  show  to  the  Christians  in  America,  all  attest  the  genuineness 
of  these  simple  minded  Christian  people.  I can  hear  them  now  bidding 
us  farewell  as  we  passed  the  beautiful  avenue  of  mango  trees,  down  the 
level  shaded  walks  to  the  shell  covered  beach,  whence  we  departed. 
They  indeed,  as  was  done  to  a famous  missionary  of  old,  “brought  us 
on  our  way  to  the  ship.”  Weeks  afterward  and  just  before  leaving  for 
home  the  following  letter  was  received.  I publish  it  entire  as  illustrating 
the  fine  type  of  these  Coriscan  Christians: 


22 


A CORDIAL  FAREWELL  FROM  CORISCO  CHURCH. 

Rev.  Mr.  Halsey,  D.D.: — Your  hasty  visit  calls  out  the  sympathy  of 
many  who  were  anxious  to  see  you  but  are  unable.  On  the  other  hand  we 
greatly  give  thanks  to  our  Master  for  your  sincere  visit.  We  thank  you 
for  coming  far,  far  away  thousands  of  miles  from  west  continent  across 
the  great  Atlantic  to  our  west  Equatorial  Africa.  Here  we  agree  to  send 
our  cordial  gratitude  on  your  behalf  for  your  tender  kindness  toward  your 
negroes  brethren.  May  our  Omnipotent  Master  guide  your  voyage  and 
lead  your  steamer  through  heavy  and  great  tempest  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean ; 
and  then  bring  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Halsey  safe  to  America  shores. 

Sincerely, 

CORISCO  CHURCHES, 

Mduma  Injenji. 

Corisco,  ioth  January,  1905. 

The  church  building  at  Corisco  is  a beautiful  structure  of  bamboo 
and  mahogany,  built  in  native  style  with  native  money.  While  the 
church  is  not  entirely  self-supporting,  yet  in  view  of  the  many  disad- 
vantages under  which  these  Christians  have  to  labor  in  their  daily  avo- 
cations, as  well  as  in  their  religious  privileges,  the  amount  contributed 
is  very  large.  The  work  at  Corisco  is  small  and  there  is  little  prospect 
of  growth.  A sturdier  lot  of  Christians,  however,  it  would  be  hard  to  find 
anywhere  in  the  world.  The  first  convert  on  the  island  was  for  many 
years  the  efficient  and  faithful  pastor  of  the  church.  His  son  was  the 
captain  of  the  boat  which  took  us  to  Corisco  and  then  to  Benito  and 
Batanga.  Born  on  the  island  of  Corisco,  he  was  at  home  on  the  sea 
and  guided  our  good  ship  with  unerring  skill.  He  seemed  to  be  quite  at 
home  in  Presbytery  when  being  examined  on  the  life  of  Christ  and  the 
history  of  the  Christian  Church.  He  bids  fair  to  rival  his  honored  father 
in  all  spiritual  gifts.  He  is  a typical  Coriscan  Christian,  and  we  trust 
that  for  many  years  this  little  island  flock  will  send  forth  its  trained  mem- 
bers into  the  African  field 
which  is  so  white  unto  the 
harvest. 

The  other  churches  in  the 
Benito  district  are  Hanje, 

Melega,  Bolundo  (Benito 
proper),  Bata,  Evune  and 
Myuma. 

Hanje  is  twelve  miles 
south  of  Bolundo.  The  church 
was  crowded  with  a well 
dressed  congregation  on  the 
afternoon  of  our  visit.  It 
seemed  very  much  like  a 
church  at  home.  In  the  midst 
of  the  service  a band  of  wild, 
uncouth,  illy  clad  people 
(some  of  them  no  garments  at 
all)  entered  the  house  of  the  Lord.  News  had  gone  to  the  interior  that  “a 
great  man  from  far  away  was  to  visit  the  church  that  day.”  These  rude 
men  of  the  forest,  whose  tribesmen  every  year  are  pressing  in  greater 
numbers  to  the  coast,  were  drawn  no  doubt  by  idle  curiosity  on  that 


23 


bright,  sunshiny  afternoon.  They  are  the  forerunners  of  a mighty  host. 
A few  years  ago  two  of  the  Board’s  missionaries  made  a trip  from  Benito 
into  the  interior  and  north  to  Efulen.  Everywhere  they  found  countless 
towns,  a vast  unoccupied  territory,  with  thousands  of  people  speaking  a 
language  akin  to  the  Fang  and  the  Bulu.  When  this  party  of  fifteen  to 
twenty  entered  the  church  there  was  not  a vacant  seat.  Instantly  twenty 
seats  were  vacant  and  the  ‘ ‘ poor  man  in  vile  clothing  ’ ’ was  given  the  pi  ace 
of  honor.  “ For  if  there  come  unto  your  assembly  a man  with  a gold  ring, 
in  goodly  apparel,  and  there  come  in  also  a poor  man  in  vile  raiment, 
and  ye  have  respect  to  him  that  weareth  the  gay  clothing,  and  say  unto 
him,  sit  thou  here  in  a good  place,  and  say  to  the  poor,  stand  thou 
there,  or  sit  here  under  my  footstool,  are  ye  not  then  partial  in  your- 
selves, and  are  become  judges  of  evil  thoughts?”  One  of  the  young 
candidates  examined  to  be  taken  under  care  of  the  Presbytery 
was  asked,  ‘‘If  you  were  sent  to  an  interior  tribe  which  you  thought 
much  below  you,  to  preach  the  Gospel,  would  you  go?”  The  answer 
was  ‘‘There  is  neither  Greek  nor  Jew,  bond  nor  free,  male  nor 
female,  in  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ.”  The  Gospel  is  breaking  down 
barriers  rapidly  in  Africa.  The  Hanje  Christians  have  felt  the  expansive 
influence  of  the  Gospel  and  are  asking  for  better  schools,  more  industrial 
work,  a dispensary  and  physician  and  much  else.  The  leaven  is  working. 
In  a farewell  note  the  native  pastor  wrote : ‘‘We  hope  that  your  important 
visit  will  cause  some  alteration  of  the  evil  conditions  which  surround  us. 
We  need  righteousness  to  combat  corruption,  civilization  to  overthrow 
barbarism,  learning  to  drive  out  ignorance.  If  we  do  not  receive  help 
we  will  be  still  sitting  under  the  vast  shadow  of  despair.  When  you  will 
be  homeward  bound  and  parted  from  us,  leaving  this  dark  continent 

behind  and  crossing  again  the 
vast  Atlantic  Ocean,  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  Africa  will 
be  raising  their  hands  to  you 
and  shouting  together  with 
one  voice  for  help , help,  to 
drive  out  this  great  dark- 
ness.” 

In  the  trip  to  the  interior 
the  two  missionaries  found  no 
evidences  of  the  Gospel  save  a 
few  Bulu  Sunday  calendars,  a 
rude  method  of  noting  the 
days  of  the  week  in  order  to 
keep  the  Lord’s  day.  These 
had  been  placed  in  the  towns 
by  the  Bulu  Christians  who 
had  gone  out  from  Elat  or 
Efulen.  These  great  multi- 
tudes are  without  the  Gospel. 
If,  as  is  proposed,  there  should 
be  appointed  a superinten- 
dent of  all  the  coast  churches, 
Benito  would  be  an  ideal  place  for  his  residence,  for  not  only  is  it 
central,  but  hither  could  come  the  young  men  under  training  and 
abundant  opportunity  would  be  offered  in  the  regions  around  Benito 
for  them  to  exercise  their  gifts  in  an  effort  to  reach  these  lost  tribes. 


24 


At  Melega  is  a small  band  of  Christians  who  own  their  own  house 
of  worship,  surrounded  as  it  is  by  the  thrifty  and  pretty  home  of  the 
native  teacher  with  its  well  kept  garden  with  growing  corn  and  lettuce, 
its  fine  cocoa  and  coffee  trees,  all  an  object  lesson  which  preaches  seven 
days  in  the  week.  The  Gospel  puts  new  vigor  and  enterprise  into  the 
African.  Every  truly  converted  man  shows  the  effect  of  the  Gospel  even 
in  his  garden. 


Beautiful  Benito. 

The  main  station  of  Benito  is  at  Bolundo.  It  well  deserves  to  be 
called  “ Benito  the  beautiful.”  Stand  on  the  beach  late  in  the  afternoon 
when  the  setting  sun  is  pouring  a flood  of  golden  light  on  house  and 
church,  stream  and  forest,  fruit  and  flower.  The  great  river  with  its 
sun-lit,  wind-swept  waters  rushes  along  the  pebbly  beach,  the  gathering 
shadows  give  a rich  tone  to  the  green  forest,  the  frame  in  which  the 
river  seems  enclosed;  the  lawn,  smooth  and  well  kept  as  the  best  of 
English  estates,  with  its  great  palm  trees  standing  like  sentinels  to  guard 
from  danger  is  fair  to  look  upon,  while  as  far  south  as  the  eye  can  reach 
is  a mass  of  flowers  rich  in  color  and  fragrant  with  perfume  as  in  the 
sunniest  of  sunny  lands.  A closer  inspection  does  not  dispel  the  illu- 
sion. The  boat-house  is  a model,  the  best  boat-house  I saw  on  the  entire 
West  Coast.  Every  boat  painted,  each  canoe  tarred  and  pitched,  not  a 
bit  of  rubbish  or  a useless  stick  to  be  seen  anywhere,  a paragon  of 
neatness  and  order  and  cleanliness.  The  same  was  true  of  the  two  dwell- 
ing houses  and  the  numerous  other  buildings,  church,  school,  dispensary, 
store,  dormitory  and  store  houses.  Many  beautiful  vistas  open  as  you 
walk  over  this  fine  plot  of  ground  at  Benito  It  must  be  a liberal  edu- 
cation to  the  native  Christian  just  to  see  what  can  be  done  by  pains- 
taking labor,  good  common  sense  and  a touch  of  the  beautiful. 


25 


The  visitor  to  Benito  did  not  need  the  legend  embowered  in  a mass 
of  palm  ferns  over  the  door  of  the  mission  house  to  assure  him  that  here 
was  genuine  Christian  hospitality.  “We  have  great  influence  here,” 
said  one  of  the  faithful  workers  who  has  grown  gray  in  the  service. 
We  did  not  doubt  it.  There  is  such  a happy  combination  of  utility, 
piety,  and  beauty.  A great  spring  of  pure  water  is  covered  over  to 
prevent  defilement,  a force  pump,  the  gift  of  one  of  the  missionaries, 
forces  the  water  into  large  whitewashed  tanks  where  it  is  readily  accessi- 
ble. Yonder  to  the  east  is  a fine  avenue  of  fruit  trees,  limes,  cocoa,  avo- 
cado pears,  cocoanut,  pepper,  guava,  mango,  plum  and  I know  not  what 
else.  There — a walk  lined  with  pineapple  hedge;  here — a fine  clump 
of  Indian  bamboo,  very  useful  in  house  building.  Two  rows  of  bread- 
fruit trees  add  beauty  to  the  landscape.  Oranges  abound  and  better 
oranges  I have  yet  to  taste,  Floridas  and  Calif ornias  not  excepted. 
There  is  much  space  where  the  micabo  or  the  yam  or  the  banana  can  be 
cultivated  for  the  boarding  school  pupils,  room  enough  to  provide 
food  for  all  who  can  be  taught  by  the  small  mission  force  at  the  station. 
The  flock  of  sheep,  dark  brown  with  no  wool,  the  pigs  and  chickens,  the 
Syrian  donkey  named  Nyack  from  the  church  which  contributed  the  funds 
for  its  purchase,  add  a pastoral  touch  to  the  picture.  One  of  the  events 
of  the  day  is  to  see  Nyack  come  to  the  kitchen  door  every  afternoon  at 
four  o’clock  to  get  her  afternoon  tea.  She  learned  this  in  the  Syria 
Mission. 

It  were  worth  a journey  to  Africa  to  enjoy  the  good  things  at  Benito. 
We  heard  much  of  the  great  Roman  Catholic  Mission  at  Landana, 
farther  south.  It  is  indeed  beautifully  situated  and  the  “Fathers”  in 
charge  have  a fine  garden,  but  the  indescribable  filth  of  yard  and  house 
puts  it  out  of  comparison  with  ‘ ‘ Benito  the  beautiful.” 

The  same  attention  to  detail  was  manifest  in  things  spiritual.  Every- 
thing is  sadly  handicapped  by  the  action  of  the  Spanish  officials.  The 
store  is  closed,  also  the  dispensary.  No  medicine  can  be  sold,  it  must  be 
given  away.  At  all  our  mission  stations  the  charge  for  medicine  is  very 
slight,  usually  only  sixpence.  The  Spanish  Government  does  not  even 
permit  this.  The  medical  work  is  at  a standstill  at  Benito,  likewise  the 
school.  The  Government  insists  on  Spanish  being  taught  by  the  white 
missionaries.  At  the  time  of  my  visit  a very  bright  colored  man  who 

spoke  Spanish  well  taught  the 
few  children  employed  about 
the  place,  but  no  regular 
school  was  held.  In  an  inter- 
view with  the  Spanish  gov- 
ernor at  Bata  he  very  cour- 
teously gave  us  permission  to 
reopen  the  store  but  did  not 
permit  us  to  sell  medicines. 

The  religious  work  of  the 
station,  however,  went  on 
without  interruption.  It  was 
pleasant  to  see  the  people 
wending  their  way  to  church 
early  Sunday  morning.  Some  came  in  canoes  across  the  river  or  from 
various  places  along  the  coast,  some  from  nearby  towns.  A goodly 
number  came  from  long  distances,  whole  families, . fathers,  mothers 
and  children,  trudging  along  with  bright  faces  and  cheery  talk  as 

26 


they  came  to  the  house  of  the  Lord.  In  a land  where  polygamy 
enters  into  the  warp  and  woof  of  the  social  and  political  life  it  meant 
much  to  see  the  ‘ ‘ husband  of  one  wife  ’ ’ with  his  children  going 
to  the  house  of  the  Lord.  The  little  tots  looked  very  pretty  in  their 
Mother  Hubbard  gowns  and  their  many  colored  caps 
as  they  marched  along  beside  their  parents,  proud  of 
the  privilege  of  going  to  church. 

It  was  interesting  to  note  the  self-denial  evidenced 
in  many  ways  by  these  Benito  Christians.  The  church 
is  self-supporting;  the  three  licentiates  all  gave  up 
lucrative  positions  in  order  to  study  for  the  ministry. 

One  was  receiving  $15.00  per  month.  He  works  for 
the  missionary  for  less  than  one-third  of  this  amount 
and  spends  every  spare  minute  in  study.  I examined 
him  in  Old  Testament  history.  He  knew  his  Bible 
well.  The  native  Spanish  teacher  was  offered  $20.00 
a month  by  the  Spanish  Government  if  he  would  go 
to  Fernando  Po  and  teach.  He  refused,  albeit  his 
pay  from  the  Mission  is  less  than  $5.00  a month. 

Godly  women  were  present  on  that  Sunday  morn- 
ing, who,  when  they  prepare  ten  sticks  of  cassava,  the  staple  native 
food  in  all  West  Africa,  carefully  lay  aside  one  stick  for  the  Lord.  This 
means  much.  The  work  of  preparing  cassava  is  arduous,  requiring 
patience,  any  amount  of  time  and  much  muscle.  It  is  done  entirely  by 
women,  the  real  burden  bearers  in  Africa. 

The  Evune  congregation  are  erecting  a new  church  building.  It 
was  about  one-half  completed  when  we  visited  Evune.  The  Bolundo 
Christians  hearing  that  their  fellow  Christians  at  Evune  felt  unable  to 
complete  the  structure  offered  to  assist  them.  I have  no  doubt  the 
church  will  be  completed  ere  these  lines  are  in  print,  and  that  without  any 
cost  to  the  Board. 

The  Christians  at  Bolundo  wanted  to  know  whether  the  Board 
would  open  a new  station  up  the  river  “where  dwells  a tribe  as  yet 
unreached  by  the  Gospel.”  No  better  evidence  of  the  depth  of 
Christian  conviction  at  home  or  abroad  than  this  desire  to  send  the 
Gospel  to  the  regions  beyond.  In  this  particular  instance,  the  request 
has  an  added  significance  from  the  fact  that  the  tribes  without  the 
Gospel,  in  the  interior,  are  looked  down  upon  by  the  Benito  people  as 
inferior.  The  difference  in  rank  among  the  tribes  of  Africa  is  hard  to 
explain  to  a European.  It  is  the  old  story,  “the  Jews  have  no  dealings 
with  the  Samaritans,”  until  the  Gospel  breaks  down  the  barrier.  In 
my  interviews  with  the  Spanish  governor,  I took  occasion  to  remind  him 
that  no  member  of  any  one  of  the  churches  in  the  entire  Benito  district 
had  been  so  much  as  accused,  much  less  convicted,  of  any  crime  against 
the  Spanish  law.  The  governor  willingly  assented  to  my  statements  and 
said  the  Government  fully  recognized  the  beneficent  character  of  our 
work.  The  leading  elder  in  the  Benito  church  is  employed  by  the  gov- 
ernment to  settle  the  palavers  constantly  arising  among  the  people. 
These  palavers  are  not  few,  and  by  no  means  simple.  I found  this  elder 
to  be  a man  well  versed  in  Scripture,  well  informed  regarding  the  ancient 
customs  and  manners  of  his  people  and  keenly  alive  to  the  African’s 
great  need  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

We  took  an  extra  boat,  the  “Willie,”  in  going  from  Benito  to  Bata,  a 
distance  of  some  twenty- three  miles.  The  “Willie”  is  the  second  boat  of 


27 


that  name  in  the  Mission.  Both  these  boats  were  the  gift  of  Mr.  William 
A.  Pembroke,  of  Elizabeth,  New  Jersey.  Mr.  Pembroke  never  did  any- 
thing by  halves.  The  first  “Willie”  lasted  twelve  years.  The  present 
craft  is  very  staunch  and  bids  fair  to  do  yeoman  service  for  the  Mission 
for  many  years  to  come.  The 
boats  were  given  as  a memo- 
rial for  a dear  child,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  “Dorothy.”  Both 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pembroke  con- 
tributed to  the  support  of  one 
of  the  Benito  missionaries. 

It  is  pleasant  to  think  that 
the  good  work  begun  by  these 
godly  people  still  continues, 
even  though  they  have  passed 
on  to  their  reward. 

It  was  at  Benito  that  we 
made  the  acquaintance  of  one 
of  the  many  pests  of  Africa 
which  the  missionary  has  to 
contend  with.  It  was  here  we 
learned  the  full  significance  of 
the  celebrated  saying  which 
is  not  to  be  found  in  any  of 
Benjamin  Franklin’s  works,  “Say  your  prayers  and  look  at  your  feet.” 
“Chiggers”  abound  in  West  Africa,  and  they  quickly  find  your  feet. 
Left  alone  they  produce  a festering  sore  and  often  cause  serious  trouble. 
The  natives  are  very  careless  regarding  the  “Chiggers.”  One  of  the 
missionaries  at  Benito  assured  me  that  it  was  necessary  at  times  to 
punish  severely  the  children  in  order  to  compel  them  to  take  out  the 
“Chiggers”  from  their  feet.  At  Efulen  the  teachers  in  charge  of  the 
school,  after  repeated  warnings,  have  found  it  necessary  to  inflict  corporal 
punishment  upon  the  children  in  order  to  compel  them  to  extract  these 
troublesome  creatures,  albeit  every  day  that  one  of  them  is  left  in  the 
foot  causes  increased  pain. 

The  missionary  is  subject  to  many  inconveniences.  The  filaria,  a 
small  worm,  which  in  some  mysterious  way,  either  through  water  or  food, 
enters  the  system,  becomes  a source  of  pain  and  much  discomfort.  Ants 
of  all  kinds  and  in  numbers  whose  name  is  legion  abound.  Snakes  are 
in  evidence  though  we  saw  but  few.  The  mosquito  with  his  malarial 
poison  lies  in  wait  at  every  turn  of  the  road,  and  lurks  at  every  bedside. 
It  is  one  constant  battle.  Few  indeed  of  the  missionaries  escape  a touch 
of  the  fever.  Yeoman  service  is  required  of  the  man  or  woman  who 
would  toil  for  Christ  in  the  Dark  Continent,  yet  I heard  no  word  of  com- 
plaint from  our  workers  regarding  any  of  these  hindrances  to  the  flesh. 

The  road  from  Hanje  to  Bata  is  lined  with  towns.  A conservative 
estimate  of  the  population  at  or  near  the  coast  from  Hanje  to  Evune  is 
between  fifteen  and  twenty  thousand.  The  population  in  the  interior 
is  not  known.  Traders  cannot  go  very  far  back  of  Bata  for  fear  of  hos- 
tile tribes.  While  we  were  at  Bata  a German  trader  attempted  to  go 
into  the  interior  and  was  robbed  of  his  goods,  barely  escaping  with  his 
life.  In  time  these  numerous  tribes  will  be  subdued  and  open  to  the 
Gospel  as  the  Bulu  are  in  Kamerun. 

On  the  parade  grounds  at  Bata  we  saw  Negro  soldiers  being  drilled 

28 


Church , Evune. 


by  Spanish  officers.  These  soldiers  were  from  the  Fang  tribe.  It  is 
said  that  many  Fang  dwell  in  the  bush  in  the  Benito  district.  The  Fang 
and  Bulu  are  closely  related.  Missionaries  who  speak  one  of  these 
tongues  can  easily  be  understood  in  the  other.  One  sees  here  the  finger 
of  Providence  pointing  to  a great  open  door  to  the  Presbyterian  Church 
in  its  West  Africa  Mission. 

The  Bata  church  was  crowded  the  night  in  which  it  was  our  privilege 
to  speak.  Everything  at  Bata  indicated  that  a new  governor  was  insti- 
tuting a new  reform.  A general  stir  and  business  air  seemed  to  pervade 
the  atmosphere  in  striking  contrast  to  the  old  regime.  The  governor 
informed  us  that  he  had  just  completed  arrangements  for  the  construc- 
tion of  the  telephone  to  connect  Bata  with  Kribi  and  thence  with  Duala. 
At  Duala  is  a cable  station.  Benito  will  soon  be  in  touch  with  the  out- 
side world.  All  these  churches  in  the  Benito  district,  while  showing 
evidence  of  growth 
and  development, 
need  and  will  need  for 
years  to  come  constant 
supervision  of  the  white 
missionary.  The  Afri- 
can Christian  has  not 
yet  learned  to  stand 
alone.  Friendly  coun- 
sel, wise  administration 
of  discipline  and  godly 
incentives  from  others 
are  greatly  needed  to 
keep  the  church  up- 
right in  morals,  true  in 
doctrines  and  zealous 
in  service.  When  we 
consider  how  many 
churches  in  our  homeland  still  need  to  be  cared  for  by  Presbyteries 
and  Synods  and  Boards,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  the  African 
church  requires  paternal  oversight.  At  present  in  the  Benito  district  there 
are  only  three  students  for  the  ministry.  Six  are  needed.  “ Pray  ye  the 
Lord  of  the  harvest  that  He  will  thrust  forth  laborers  into  His  harvest.” 

Traveling  in  a surf  boat,  well  loaded  with  trunks,  bundles,  crew  and 
passengers,  is  not  desirable.  The  sun  is  hot  during  the  day,  the  nights  are 
damp  and  chill.  The  facilities  for  sleeping  and  eating  are  not  to  be 
compared  with  those  afforded  by  the  “ Dorothy.  ” Yet  the  missionary 
journeys  many  a mile  in  these  boats,  which  are  safe,  and  while  not  com- 
modious, serve  their  purpose  well.  One  of  the  pleasant  features  of  the 
boat  travel  was  the  singing  by  the  Christian  men  who  composed  the 
boat’s  .crew.  One  familiar  tune  after  another  would  float  out  on  the 
night  air  as  we  made  our  way  past  Evune  and  Ubenji  toward  Batanga. 
This  singing  is  a characteristic  feature  of  the  African  Christian.  The 
Bulu  carriers  who  were  with  us  much  in  the  interior  were  singing  con- 
stantly as  we  journeyed  through  the  long  day  and  they  always  assisted 
at  the  evening  meetings  with  their  songs.  The  Gospel  song  seems  to 
have  driven  out  the  heathen  song  entirely  in  the  life  of  the  believer. 
At  Elat  we  heard  the  scholars  sing  part  songs  admirably,  their  singing 
reflecting  great  credit  on  the  faithful  teaching  of  the  missionary  and  evi- 
dencing what  a mighty  factor  in  evangelization  is  ‘ ‘ the  Gospel  in  song.  ’ ’ 


29 


Four  of  the  six  stations  of  the  Board  are  in  the  Kamerun  district, 

* Batanga,  Lolodorf,  Elat  and  Efulen.  When  the  Portuguese  in  1490 
discovered  the  great  delta  of  the  river  which  ran  through  their  territory, 
it  was  filled  with  prawns  (a  species  of  craw-fish)  and  they  called  it 
“Cameroes,”  that  is  to  say,  “prawns”  and  “Kamerun”  is  a corruption 
of  the  word.  Kamerun  extends  from  the  river  Campo,  the  end  of  the 
Spanish  possession,  to  southern  Nigeria,  the  beginning  of  British  pos- 
session, a territory  embracing  180,684  square  miles  with  an  estimated 
population  of  three  and  a half  million.  It  is  rapidly  developing  under 

• the  wise  administration  of  the  German  Government. 

^ BATANGA  STATION  includes  a coast  line  of  sixty  miles.  The  work 
of  the  station  is  confined  almost  entirely  to  the  coast.  The  main  station  at 
Batanga,  forty  miles  from  the  river  Campo,  was  formerly  a place  of  some 
commercial  importance.  It  has  declined  in  the  last  decade.  This  is 
due  in  large  part  to  the  fact  that  Kribi,  five  miles  to  the  north,  was  a few 
years  ago  made  a civil  station  by  the  German  Government.  The  gov- 
ernor of  the  district  resides  there.  Many  of  the  factories  and  trading 
stores  formerly  located  at  Batanga  have  removed  to  Kribi.  Kribi  is  easily 
the  trade  center  of  the  district  and  the  point  of  departure  for  the  interior. 
The  native  towns  in  and  near  Batanga  are  neither  large  nor  flourishing. 
The  people  seem  to  lack  enterprise,  and  are  living  in  the  past.  The 
tribal  animosities  and  jealousies,  which  in  years  past  led  to  bloodshed 
and  greatly  interrupted  the  work  of  the  Mission  and  the  trader  as  well, 
have  lost  their  fierceness,  but  not  altogether  their  animosity.  As  I stood 
on  the  bank  of  a quiet  stream — it  is  very  boisterous  in  the  rainy  season — 
which  bounds  our  Mission  property  at  Bongaheli  at  the  north,  one  of  the 
senior  missionaries  told  me  how  in  days  gone  by  this  stream  was  the 
dividing  line  between  two  small  tribes  who  often  engaged  in  hand-to- 
hand  encounters  on  its  banks  and  in  its  swift- flowing  waters.  In  one  or 
two  stormy  interviews  I had  with  these  dear  colored  brethren  and  sisters 
at  Batanga,  I imagined  that  we  were  on  the  bank  of  that  stream  and  in 
the  midst  of  such  a conflict  as  the  good  missionary  described  having 
witnessed  long  ago. 

One  of  the  most  delightful  experiences  of  all  the  visit  to  the  West 
Africa  Mission  was  that  in  every  mission  household  at  family  prayers, 
the  Year  Book  of  Prayer  was  in  evidence.  I wish  that  every  Presby- 
trian  family  in  the  homeland  would  thus  use  the  Year  Book  published 
by  the  Women’s  Boards  and  Societies.  Every  missionary  looks  forward 
eagerly  to  the  month  when  the  mission  which  he  represents  will  be  the 
subject  of  thousands  of  prayers  in  the  homeland.  I can  ask  no  greater 
blessing  for  Africa  than  that  all  who  read  these  lines  will  purchase  and 
use  the  Year  Book  of  Prayer.  Readers  of  the  Year  Book  for  1906  will 
note  that  no  missionaries  are  assigned  to  the  Batanga  Station.  It  is  a 
sad  story,  but  one  which  I believe  the  Church  at  home  should  know. 

Ere  we  left  the  steamer  on  our  way  to  Africa,  a letter  of  complaint 
purporting  to  come  from  the  Batanga  church  was  placed  in  my  hands. 
Two  hours  after  our  arrival  a committee  from  the  church  waited  on  the 
representative  of  the  Board  and  asked  for  a palaver.  The  palaver  was 
granted.  Other  letters  and  palavers  followed.  In  fact  much  time  was 
given  to  these  good  people  who  seemed  to  be  in  dire  trouble.  The 
various  conferences  and  discussions  only  served  to  show  that  the  Chris- 
\ tian  people  at  Batanga  were  dissatisfied  with  the  work  of  the  majority  of 
\ the  missionaries.  By  letter  and  by  word  of  mouth  they  asked  for  the 
1 removal  of  nearly  all  the  missionaries  at  the  Batanga  Station.  The  com- 


30 


plaints  touched  every  branch  of  missionary  activity,  evangelistic,  edu- 
cational, medical.  Some  of  the  complaints  arose  from  ignorance,  a 
failure  to  grasp  the  facts,  some  from  the  peculiar  disposition  of  the 
African  mind,  which,  to  a foreigner,  is  past  finding  out  ; some  had  a basis 
of  truth.  I carefully  examined  each  complaint  and  found  no  ground  for 
the  sweeping  condemnation  of  the  faithful  workers  at  Batanga.  It  is 
well  for  the  Church  at  home  to  know  that  the  missionary  is  only  human, 
that  the  African  climate  is  most  trying  on  the  nerves,  that  the  African 
Christian  is  sometimes  as  unreasonable  and  unfair  and  unjust  as  Chris- 
tians in  the  homeland.  Even  Moses  spoke  unadvisedly  with  his  lips, 
and  certainly  was  not  justified  by  any  law,  human  or  divine,  in  the  use 
of  his  hands  in  dealing  with  a certain  nameless  Egyptian.  From  the 
mass  of  complaints  and  grievances  presented  to  me  I select  a single  illus- 
trative case. 

' A patient  came  to  the  hospital  at  Batanga  from  Kribi.  He,  like 
Mephibosheth  of  old,  was  lame  in  his  feet.  The  missionary  physician, 
after  examination,  said  that  it  would  be  necessary  for  the  patient  to  reside 
in  the  town  near  Batanga  while  undergoing  treatment,  since  the  twice 
five-mile  daily  walk  would  hinder  recovery.  The  patient  declined  to 
stay  in  the  town  on  account  of  personal  reasons.  The  physician  then 
offered  to  give  him  a bed  in  the  hospital,  but  this  offer  was  refused  be- 
cause of  alleged  inability  to  pay  for  food  during  residence  in  the  hospital. 
The  generous  minded  doctor  then  agreed  to  provide  for  the  food  as  well 
as  to  treat  the  patient.  For  some  reason  which  was  not  made  clear  to 
me  the  patient  refused  this  offer,  whereupon  the  physician  said  he  could 
do  nothing  more  for  him.  Some  days  later  the  patient  returned  accom- 
panied by  a prominent  member  of  the  Batanga  church.  After  much 
discussion,  in  which  the  native  Batanga  Christian  endeavored  to  dictate 
to  the  physician  what  he  should  do  for  the  patient,  the  good  doctor  lost 
his  temper,  and  insisted  on  them  both  leaving  the  hospital,  as  he  had 
numerous  other  patients  who  demanded  his  attention.  As  they  still 
lingered,  he  assisted  their  departure  by  forcible  means.  This  was  the 
story  told  me  by  the  parties  aggrieved  and  confirmed  in  substance  by 
the  doctor.  Neither  of  the  parties  in  being  ejected  from  the  hospital 
were  injured  save  in  their  dignity.  I have  no  doubt  the  good  physician 

I lost  his  temper,  but  I think  I would  have  done  so  under  similar  circum- 
stances. 

This  story  and  many  others  I heard  from  the  members  of  the  Batanga 
church.  A spirit  of  unrest  and  dissatisfaction  with  the  work  of  the  mis- 
sionary was  manifest  in  all  the  interviews  which  I had  with  these  good 
people.  I felt  deep  sympathy  for  them.  In  former  days  Batanga  was 
a prosperous  place.  Now  its  glory  has  departed.  The  policy  of  the 
Mission  in  later  years  has  been  steadily  directed  more  and  more  toward 
self-support.  The  people  must  pay  for  their  medicine — a small  sum — 
must  contribute  something  for  the  education  of  their  children  and  in 
other  ways  must  assume  the  burden  of  responsibility  of  members  of  the 
Christian  Church.  All  Africa  is  in  a state  of  transition.  The  old  order 
passeth  away,  the  new  order  cometh.  It  is  impossible  to  avoid  friction, 
discontent  and  dissatisfaction  in  such  a transition  era.  This  dissatis- 
faction showed  itself  some  years  ago  in  an  open  outbreak  against  the 
missionaries.  The  visit  of  the  Secretary  offered  a favorable  opportunity 
for  the  people  to  present  their  grievances,  real  or  supposed.  I gave 
every  opportunity  for  the  members  of  the  church  to  talk  over  these  mat- 
ters with  me,  but  I found  hardly  one  who  was  not  more  or  less  disaffected. 


31 


Self-support  is  a hard  lesson  to  learn,  even  in  America,  much  more  so  in 
Africa.  The  Mission,  in  my  judgment,  acted  wisely  in  withdrawing  the 
missionaries  for  a time  from  the  Batanga  Station.  I believe  the  discipline 
will  prove  effective. 

The  Batanga  church  is  the  largest  church  numerically  in  the  Mission. 

It  has  many  devoted 
souls  within  it.  It  is 
not  a hopeful  sign 
that  after  twenty 
years  of  labor  the 
people  seemingly  do 
not  appreciate  what 
has  been  done  for 
them,  but  I believe 
that  out  of  this 
trouble  a blessing  will 
come  and  the  Church 
will  be  “established, 
settled,  strength- 
ened.” 

The  situation  at 
Batanga  presents 
much  that  is  help- 
ful and  inspiring. 
There  are  five  centers  of  work.  At  the  southern  end  of  the  field  is  Bon- 
gaheli,  with  its  substantial  and  commodious  church,  its  cozy  mission 
residence,  “ Evangeline  Cottage,”  the  school  room  adjoining,  the  garden 
with  its  pretty  flowers,  and  the  grounds  well  supplied  with  fruit  bearing 
trees. 

A mile  and  a half  beyond  is  the  central  station  of  the  Mission,  Ikihike, 
with  its  three  fine  residences,  two  of  them  near  the  seashore,  and  the  third 
a short  distance  back  on  the  main  road;  the  school  house,  the  hospital, 
the  store  and  a number  of  smaller  buildings.  Then  a mile  and  a half, 
still  going  north,  the  outsta- 
tion  at  Lobi  (Waterfall),  and 
some  distance  beyond  the 
church  and  school  at  Bwam- 
bi  and  the  well  built  church 
at  Kribi  with  the  manse  ad- 
joining. 

I can  never  forget  the 
sight  of  the  girls  in  the  school 
at  Bongaheli.  The  school 
was  closed,  but  the  scholars 
gave  us  a reception  one  after- 
noon, and  we  realized  as  we 
looked  into  the  happy,  intelli- 
gent faces  of  these  children, 
in  such  striking  contrast  to 
those  we  saw  in  the  towns 
nearby,  what  a splendid  work  was  being  done  for  the  future  church  at 
Batanga.  Not  long  before  our  visit  a Y.P.  S.C.E.  prayer  circle  was 
organized,  and  the  solemn  pledge  was  most  faithfully  kept.  One  out- 
come of  the  pledge  was  the  visit  by  Christian  girls  to  native  homes 


Group  of  Children , Batanga.  Albino  in  front. 


Miss  Nassau's  School,  Bongaheli. 


32 


where  dwelt  Christians  who  were  unable  to  read,  the  educated  Christian 
girls  going  with  glad  hearts  to  read  the  Word  of  God  and  to  sing  the  sweet 
songs  of  Zion. 

A well  trodden  path  leads  by  Evangeline  Cottage  Carriers  from  the 
distant  interior  pass  on  their  way  to  the  factory  beyond.  The  good 
missionary,  who,  for 
more  than  a genera- 
tion, has  served  the 
Lord  in  Darkest  Af- 
rica, sits  in  the  door- 
way of  her  cottage, 
and  by  aid  of  the 
baby  organ  induces 
the  carrier  to  rest  for 
a while  on  his  jour- 
ney. The  Word  is 
preached  to  these 
passers  by,  some  of 
whom  are  never  seen 
again,  but  surely  we 
have  the  promise, 

“My  word  shall  not 
return  unto  me  void 
but  it  shall  accom- 
plish the  purpose 
whereunto  it  is  sent.” 

Evangeline  Cottage  is  the  theological  seminary  of  the  mission  field.  Here 
for  many  years  students  have  been  taught  the  Word  of  God  and  fitted  for 
their  life  work  by  the  professor  of  didactic  and  polemic  theology,  church 
history,  catechetics  and  much  else,  and  that  professor  a WOMAN.  I give 
a few  items  from  the  report  of  this  theological  seminary  presented  at  the 
meeting  of  Corisco  Presbytery  which  I attended.  Of  233  class  days,  one 
student  was  absent  twenty  days,  one  eighteen,  one  twenty-five.  The 
course  of  instruction  consisted  of  a system  of  theology  based  on  the  work 
of  Alexander  S.  Patterson,  of  Old  Testament  history  from  the  creation 
to  the  captivity,  of  Foster’s  Bible  Story  entire,  and  questions  and 
answers  in  the  shorter  catechism  with  full  proof  texts.  I listened  to  the 
examination  of  these  candidates  for  the  Gospel  ministry,  and  was  well 
satisfied  that  whatever  St.  Paul  meant  when  he  said  that  women  should 
not  speak  in  the  churches,  he  did  not  mean  that  women  should  not  teach 
in  a theological  seminary  in  Africa. 

It  speaks  well  for  the  Batanga  Christians  that  they  built  their 
own  church,  and  do  something  toward  paying  the  running  expenses. 
One  of  the  Sundays  in  which  it  was  my  privilege  to  worship 
with  this  congregation,  an  offering  was  taken  which  amounted  to 
twenty-eight  marks  (about  seven  dollars),  a goodly  contribution 
considering  the  earning  capacity  of  the  average  communicant,  and 
the  peculiar  economic  difficulties  under  which  the  people  labor  at 
the  present  time. 

For  the  last  dozen  years,  the  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Mission  has  been 
held  in  the  school  house  at  Ikihike.  The  three  Mission  residences  afford 
ample  room  for  the  entertainment  of  all  the  missionaries  and  the  school 
room,  with  its  two  ante-rooms,  is  well  adapted  both  for  the  meeting  of  Mis- 
sion and  of  Presbytery.  The  grounds  are  very  spacious  and  plentifully 


33 


supplied  with  trees  whose  grateful  shade  and  noble  proportions  lend  an 
added  charm  to  this  haven  by  the  sea. 

This  is  the  haven  of  the  Mission.  It  is  the  point  of  landing  and 
of  departure  for  the  missionaries.  Even  those  who  go  to  Benito  or 
Gaboon  frequently  stop  over  at  Batanga.  One  of  the  onerous  tasks 
resting  upon  the  missionaries  at  Ba- 
tanga is  the  receiving  and  caring  for 
all  goods  shipped  from  England  or 
America,  and  the  forwarding  of  them 
to  the  various  interior  stations.  When 
it  is  remembered  that  these  goods 
must  be  landed  in  small  boats  where 
the  surf  runs  high  and  the  beach  is 
treacherous,  and  must  be  carried  on 
the  backs  of  men  in  loads  adapted  to 
the  capacity  of  each,  it  will  readily 
be  seen  what  a task  is  imposed  upon 
the  workers  at  Batanga.  It  has  been 
necessary  all  these  years  to  keep 
stores  at  the  interior  stations.  Large 
quantities  of  goods  have  to  be  purchased,  since  they  are  needed  for  trade 
with  the  natives.  He  who  has  not  seen  the  landing  of  cargo  at  the  inhos- 
pitable beach  at  Batanga  can  hardly  know  what  it  means  to  land  goods 
safe  and  sound ; and  he  who  has  not  dealt  with  the  African  carriers  can 
hardly  appreciate  what  patience,  care  and  tact  is  required  ere  these  goods 
can  be  safely  landed  in  the  home  of  the  missionary  in  the  distant  interior. 
At  my  request  Mr.  Peter  Menkel,  who  has  done  much  of  this  work  in 
years  gone  by,  but  who  since  we  left  Africa  has  died,  prepared  the  fol- 
lowing statement  of  one  year’s  caravan  work. 


Two  Batanga  Saints. 


A statement  concerning  the  Caravan  work  in  connection  with  the  transporta- 
tion of  goods  to  Lolodorf,  Efulen  and  Elat  from  Batanga. 

Number  of  man  loads  sent  to  the  above  mission  stations  during  1904: 


Jan.  136 
April  at 
July  30 
Oct.  53 


Feb.  42 
May  29 
Aug.  219 
Nov.  51 


March  62 
June  48 
Sept.  1 14 

Dec.  80  Total 907 


To  get  these  loads  in  shape  to  be  carried  means  the  receiving  and  storing  of 
cases,  bales,  etc.,  from  the  steamers.  Many  of  these  cases  are  too  large  or  heavy, 
or  both,  for  safe  handling  out  of  the  boats  on  the  beach,  especially  so  during  the 
afternoon,  as  the  seas  dash  over  the  bow  or  boat’s  side  and  wet  the  cases.  If 
small  ones,  they  are  more  quickly  handled.  But  during  the  “dry  season’’  the  boats 
are  almost  invariably  full  of  water  before  the  cases  can  be  got  out.  At  all  times 
cases  too  heavy  or  too  large  for  a man  to  carry  must  be  repacked. 

But  much  more  so  is  it  necessary  to  open  all  cases  received  during  the  dry  season. 

June  9.  The  steamer  brought  84  cases  for  the  Mission.  Two  boat  loads  got 
wet ; cases  too  heavy  to  handle ; stored  them.  Books  nearly  ruined.  There  were 
stationery,  provisions,  shoes,  clothing,  cloth,  muslin,  hardware,  all  for  the  interior. 

Out  of  about  30  bolts  or  trusses  of  cloth  and  muslin  21  had  to  be  put  into  the 
washtubs  and  soaked  in  fresh  water  to  get  out  the  salt  water  in  order  to  get  the 
material  dry  for  repacking  Cloth  or  clothing  wet  with  salt  water  will  always 
feel  wet  or  damp  until  soaked  in  fresh  water.  We  kept  five  washtubs  in  constant 
use  till  over  1,000  yards  were  soaked,  then  put  through  the  wringer  and  dried 
on  the  lawn.  As  we  had  some  hot  days  it  was  soon  fit  for  rerolling  into  bolts. 
All  sorts  of  clothing  were  thus  treated.  Happily  all  were  washable.  Shoes  not 
so  easily  handled  as  they  moulded,  hardware  quickly  rusted  so  all  had  to  be  oiled, 
fishhooks  were  fastened  together  in  a bunch  by  rust.  After  a week’s  work  these 
goods  were  repacked  in  smaller  cases  ready  for  the  interior,  not  much  the  worse 
for  their  sea  bath.  Without  this  effort  to  save  them  from  ruin  they  would  have 
heated,  mildewed  and  rotted  before  they  reached  the  interior  stations. 


34 


An  agreement  has  now  been  entered  into  with  one  of  the  large  trading 
firms  at  Kribi  to  take  entire  charge  of  the  receiving  of  all  the  goods  of 
the  Mission  and  shipping  them  to  the  interior  stations.  It  is  hoped  that 
this  experiment  will  prove  satisfactory.  Under  the  new  plan,  the  mis- 
sionary will  be  relieved  of  much  secular  work,  but  carriers  will  still  be 
needed  for  the  transporting  of  the  personal  effects  of  the  missionary  as 
he  journeys  to  and  fro  from  the  coast  to  the  interior. 

One  of  the  most  prominent  buildings  at  Ikihike  is  the  school  house. 
The  building  is  a plain  wooden  two  story  structure,  the  lower  floor 
being  used  as  a dormitory  for  the  boys  and  the  upper  rooms,  consisting 
of  one  large  and  two  small,  being  used  for  recitation.  There  are  nine 
schools  connected  with  the  station,  the  main  school  being  held  in  the 
building  at  Ikihike  and  the  others  in  adjacent  towns.  All  the  schools 
were  closed  during  my  visit. 

The  report  presented  to  the  Mission  meeting  showed  that  the  place  of 
the  school  master  at  Ikihike  is  not  a bed  of  roses.  The  first  term  there 
were  sixty-eight  scholars  enrolled,  the  second  forty,  the  third  twenty- 
eight.  There  were  only  five  Batanga  boys  in  the  school.  The  Batanga 
people  are  proud  and  many  of  them  refuse  to  learn  the  Benga,  which  is 
closely  allied  to  their  tongue,  the  Bapook.  The  text-books  are  in  the 
Benga.  There  are  not  enough  Bapooks  to  warrant  printing  text-books 
in  that  language.  In  three  of  the  schools  no  Benga  is  taught,  while  in 
five  others  Benga  is  the  main  language.  Nothing  is  being  done  for  the 
great  Mabeya  tribe,  a large  and  interesting  tribe  in  the  Benga  district. 
The  German  Government  insists,  and  properly,  on  German  being  taught. 
This  adds  another  complex  feature  to  the  situation.  It  is  difficult  to 
teach  a foreign  language  to  a scholar  until  he  can  read  in  his  own.  The 
school  master  gets  little  help  from  the  parents,  since  the  parents  do 
not  appreciate,  except  in  rare  instances,  the  value  of  education.  A small 
charge  for  tuition  imposed  a few  years  ago,  and  more  strictly  enforced 
each  year,  created  much  dissatisfaction.  No  doubt  many  of  the  village 
schools  do  good  work,  but  the  educational  outlook  at  Batanga  was  not, 
so  far  as  I could  judge  from  a very  incomplete  survey,  promising.  Some 
of  the  letters  of  complaint  sent  me  were  from  native  teachers  asking  for 

increased  compensation.  On 
investigation,  I found  that 
they  were  well  paid  for  the 
small  services  required.  The 
visit  of  the  Secretary,  how- 
ever, seemed  an  opportune 
time  to  ask  for  an  increase  of 
wages.  Human  nature  is  the 
same  the  world  over.  From 
these  schools  have  gone  forth 
many  pupils  who  have  be- 
come useful  members  of 
society.  At  the  present  time, 
however,  I think  the  school 
work  is  not  as  promising  as  in 
years  gone  by.  The  school 
problem  at  Batanga  is  not  a simple  one.  Much  patience  and  skill  and 
firmness  will  be  required  ere  the  good  people  at  Batanga  realize  the  value 
of  education  for  their  children.  The  closing  of  the  schools  for  the  year 
1905  may  prove  a very  salutary  lesson  to  them  all. 


Syracuse Batanga. 


35 


I was  very  much  impressed  with  the  earnestness,  zeal  and  evident 
sincerity  of  the  people  in  the  Bongaheli,  Lobi  (Waterfall),  Bwambi  and 
Kribi  churches.  I think  there  are  many  God-fearing  men  and  women 
among  them,  and  when  they  once  realize  what  education  means  for  their 
children  I am  confi- 
dent they  will  be 
more  than  ready  to 
comply  with  the  rea- 
sonable conditions 
laid  down  by  the  Mis- 
sion in  educational 
matters.  In  the  ex- 
pectant faces  of  many 
boys  and  girls  that 
greeted  me  in  these 
churches  on  the  days 
of  my  visit  I thought 
I detected  much  good 
material  for  future 
Christian  service.  In 
that  much  discussed 
volume,  “Travels  in  West  Africa,”  is  a statement  that  “the  missionary 
educated  man  is  the  worst  man  on  the  coast.”  Some  missionary  edu- 
cated men  may  be  “ne’er  do  wells.”  I have  known  some  graduates  of 
Harvard  and  Yale  and  Princeton  to  belong  to  this  category.  I found 
natives  who  had  been  educated  in  the  mission  schools  occupying  posi- 
tions of  prominence  and  of  trust  in  post  office,  custom  house,  trading 
factories  and  cable  offices  and  other  places  of  honor  and  influence  all 
along  the  West  Coast.  I sought  diligently  to  ascertain  the  facts  regard- 
ing this  matter.  I heard  government  officers  complain  that  the  Missions 
did  not  turn  out  enough  good  men  to  supply  the  need  and  I have  no 
doubt  this  is  true.  The  African  does  not  yet  realize  the  change  which 
is  coming  over  his  country,  and  even  Christian  fathers  and  mothers  are 
slow  to  understand  the  value  of  the  new  regime.  There  is  a great  future 
for  the  African  boy  and  girl  who  is  willing  to  learn  and  to  work.  One  of 
the  most  encouraging  signs  in  all  the  Mission  was  the  evident  purpose 
and  plan  of  missionaries  to  awaken  this  desire  in  both  the  parent  and 
the  child. 

It  is  pleasant  to  note  that  from  Ubenji,  thirty  miles  south  of 
Batanga  proper,  to  Kribi,  five  miles  north,  there  is  a line  of  mission 
outposts.  Kribi  is  a growing  place.  The  European  settlement  with  the 
factories,  government  offices  and  residences  lie  across  the  river  away 
from  the  native  town  and  some  distance  from  the  Kribi  mission  church. 
A bridge  is  now  in  process  of  construction  across  the  river  and  a new  road 
is  soon  to  be  built  between  Kribi  and  Batanga.  This  may  improve 
conditions  at  Batanga.  It  certainly  will  help  Kribi.  Kribi  is  becoming 
more  and  more  a great  caravan  centre.  The  Kribi  church  is  in  a strategic 
position.  The  work  there  under  the  careful  supervision  of  the  white 
missionary  should  be  greatly  enlarged  in  the  next  few  years.  One  of 
the  missionaries  in  the  interior  told  me  how  some  Bulu  Christian  carriers 
who  go  to  .Kribi  with  their  loads  refused  to  carry  at  the  command  of 
the  traders  a load  of  rum  and  they  persevered  in  their  refusal  though 
they  were  flogged  for  it.  Such  stalwart  Christianity  needs  to  be  encour- 
aged. A Christian  palaver  house  at  Kribi,  such  as  we  have  at  Lolodorf, 

36 


where  carriers  could  rest  at  noon  or  at  night,  with  a native  evangelist 
to  teach  them  the  Word,  might  prove  most  helpful. 

The  medical  work  at  Batanga  is  the  largest  in  the  Mission.  The 
hospital  with  a dispensary  is  a long  one-story  structure.  It  is  suitable 
for  native  patients  only  and  will  accommodate  seventeen.  The  floor 
is  cement,  the  beds  are  bamboo  and  the  whole  affair,  while  primitive,  as 
compared  with  our  hospitals  at  home,  serves  its  purpose  very  well. 
During  Mission  meeting  many  illustrations  were  given  of  the  beneficent 
work  of  the  hospital.  The  case  of  one  of  the  Bulu  carriers  who  was 
accidentally  shot  is  suggestive.  When  brought  to  the  hospital  it  was 
found  that  an  operation  was  necessary.  The  physician  in  charge  devoted 
much  time  to  the  case.  Many  of  his  friends  came  to  see  him.  The 
Bulu  missionaries  seized  the  opportunity  to  teach  the  Word  of  God 
which  was  being  so  beautifully  exemplified  every  day  in  the  constant  and 
faithful  care  given  by  the  physician  and  nurse-.  The  friends  of  this  man 
went  back  to  their  town  carrying  with  them  evidences  of  the  skill  of 
the  physician,  the  kindness  of  the  missionary  and  something  of  the 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  work  goes  on  every  day  of  the  year  and 
is  far  reaching  in  its  influence. 

The  Gospel  is  working  mightily  in  the  whole  Batanga  district. 
The  very  spirit  of  unrest  manifested  in  the  attacks  on  the  mis- 
sionaries, in  the  demand  for  industrial  work,  and  in  general  dissatis- 
faction with  the  instruction  received,  are  all  indications  of  growth. 
Indifference  chills,  stagnation  is  death;  opposition,  even  if  misguided, 
indicates  desire  for  better  things.  A Benga  proverb  reads:  “The 
place  of  slippery  rocks  is  not  walked  over  twice.”  I believe  that 
many  who  this  year  have  been  walking  over  “slippery  rocks”  will  avoid 
them  in  the  future.  In  the  Batanga  church  are  many  loyal  and  faithful 
praying  Christians  who  mourn  the  present  condition  of  affairs  in  this 
station.  The  missionaries  have  made -some  mistakes,  the  people  more. 
Experience  is  a costly  but  efficient  teacher.  A missionary  said  to  me, 
“One  learns  to  love  these  people  even  with  all  their  faults,  for  they 
desire  the  Gospel  greatly.  The  spirit  is  willing  but  the  flesh  is  weak.” 
The  Benga  have  a proverb  called  “two  friends.”  One  friend  reproached 
the  other  for  not  going  to  visit  him.  He  replied:  “The  jug  visits  the 
spring  but  the  spring  never  visits  the  jug.”-  Proverbs  reveal  the  hidden 
thought  of  the  race.  Possibly  we  have  not  fully  understood  the  Benga’s 
point  of  view.  I can  testify  to  most  delightful  spiritual  experiences 
with  many  of  my  Batanga  fellow  Christians.  I have  great  hopes  for 
the  future  of  the  Batanga  church. 

Coincident  with  the  sessions  of  the  Mission  meeting  at  Batanga  was 
the  meeting  of  Corisco  Presbytery.  The  opening  sermon  was  by  a 
native  preacher. 

It  was  delivered  in  a simple,  straightforward  manner  without  the 
slightest  affectation.  The  African  is  a born  orator.  He,  like  Aaron, 
speaks  well.  What  most  astonishes  an  American  used  to  the  rather 
florid  style  and  hortatory  manner  of  the  colored  preacher  in  his  own 
land,  is  the  dignity  of  manner,  the  repose,  self-possession  and  genuine 
simplicity  of  the  African  preacher.  The  Presbytery  is  composed  of 

four  native  ministers,  eight  white  ministers  (missionaries),  one 
licentiate,  four  local  evangelists  and  fifteen  students  studying 
for  the  ministry. 

At  least  half  of  the  white  ministers  are  always  home  on 
furlough,  so  that,  as  in  this  meeting,  there  is  an  equal  number  of 


white  and  colored  ministers  in  attendance.  The  colored  brethren  take 
their  full  share  of  responsibility  and  each  alternate  year  the  Moderator 
is  chosen  from  the  colored  and  white  ministers  respectively. 

The  two  most  interesting  features  of  the  gathering  were  the  exam- 
ination of  candidates  and  the  joint  meeting  of  Presbytery  and  Mission, 
for  the  purpose  of  considering  the  question  of  “Self-Support.” 

The  examination  of  the  various  candidates  was  thorough  and  ex- 
haustive. New  candidates,  of  whom  there  were  six,  four  from  the  coast 
and  two  from  the  interior  stations,  were  examined  with  great  care 
regarding  their  motives  for  seeking  the  ministry  and  their  daily  walk 
and  conversation. 

For  one  solid  hour  two  young  men  were  examined  in  Church  History. 
With  no  apparent  effort,  save  now  and  then  a search  for  the  right 
English  word,  they  answered  readily  such  questions  as  “Name  some  of 
the  Apostolic  Fathers;”  ,“What  was  their  work?”  “Who  were  the 
Apologists?”  “What  is  Pelagianism ? ” “Semi-Pelagianism?”  “State 
the  true  doctrine  ? ” “ What  was  the  great  question  before  the  Council  of 
Nice?”  “Name  the  important  speakers?”  “Who  was  the  Morning 
Star  of  the  Reformation?”  “What  did  Luther  do  during  his  year  of 
confinement  in  the  Castle?”  Question  after  question  was  answered  in 
a way  that  showed  a clear  grasp  of  the  subject. 

The  “Joint  Meeting”  in  the  interests  of  “Self-Support”  was  a mem- 
orable occasion  and  marked  a crisis  in  the  history  of  the  Presbytery 
and  Mission.  After  two  addresses  by  white  missionaries  had  been 
delivered  in  English  and  translated  into  Benga  and  Bulu,  the  native 
brethren  had  their  turn.  One  good  brother,  a leader  among  the  African 
ministers,  said  that  he  noted  in  the  minutes  of  the  General  Assem- 
bly many  churches  still  under  the  care  of  the  “Home  Board” 
(officials  of  the  Home  Board  give  ear  to  this  voice  from  Africa) 
and  he  thought  it  not  fair  to  expect  all  the  fourteen  churches  of 
Corisco  Presbytery  to  assume  self-support  at  once.  The  hit  was 
timely  and  well  received. 

Another  told  how  a few  years  ago  he  had  learned  a secret — namely, 
that  giving  was  an  offering  to  the  Lord,  that  it  was  worship.  His 
church  now  was  self-supporting  and  last  year  had  sent  a native  teacher 
to  the  heathen  Fang. 

The  most  impressive  address  was  made  by  a student  in  his  last 
year.  He  hopes  to  be  licensed  next  December.  His  address  was  in 
English  and  he  read  it.  I give  a few  extracts: 

“I  have  not  seen  a babe  that  has  been  bom  about  three  or  four 
months  let  down  to  walk  by  himself  without  the  parent  or  some  one  else 
holding  him  and  teaching  him  how  to  walk ; but  the  mistake  here  is  that 
they  hold  this  babe  (Corisco  Presbytery  churches)  till  the  age  of  forty 
years.  You  know  well  that  when  a babe  is  past  three  years  and  cannot 
walk  he  is  lame.  So  we  are  lame  on  self-support.  We  have  not  learned 
to  walk.”  He  then  spoke  of  Abraham  and  Moses  and  Jacob  and  how 
they  gave  to  the  Lord.  He  cited  the  history  of  Israel  on  the  tithe 
question.  He  told  how  he  began  at  thirteen  years  of  age  to  tithe  and 
how  after  these  years  (he  is  about  twenty-four  years  of  age)  he  found  it 
a great  delight.  “ I have  a little  bag  and  into  this  I always  put  the  Lord’s 
money  as  soon  as  I receive  it.  When  the  Sabbath  comes  my  bag  never 
fails  me.”  Some  good  Christians  in  America  might  learn  a lesson  from 
this  colored  brother.  The  whole  Presbytery  was  stirred.  Much  has 
been  done — more  will  be. 


38 


Batanga  must  continue  to  be  the  clearing  house  for  the  interior 
stations.  Eighty-one  miles  north  and  east  is  Lolodorf.  From  Lolo- 
dorf  to  Elat,  still  going  east  and  south,  is  fifty-one  miles,  while  from  Elat 
to  Efulen  going  westward  is  fifty-seven  miles,  and  it  requires  a journey 
of  sixty  miles  from  Efu- 
len to  again  reach  Ba- 
tanga. The  round  trip 
means  a journey  of  some 
two  hundred  and  fifty 
miles.  The  German  Gov- 
ernment in  Kamerun, 
like  the  old  Roman,  ap- 
preciates the  value  of 
good  roads  and  it  is 
rapidly  making  them. 

The  one  to  Lolodorf  is  in 
process  of  construction. 

For  part  of  the  way 
there  is  a hard  clay 
road  some  thirteen  feet 
wide,  well  ditched  and  in 
places  well  bridged,  but 
ever  and  anon  there  is  a 
long  stretch  of  forest  with 
only  a narrow  path,  while 
over  the  streams,  brooks 
and  rivers,  stones,  logs 
and  trees  often  do  for  bridges.  Much  yet  remains  to  be  done  ere 
even  this  road  will  be  completed.  We  met  large  gangs  of  workmen 
cutting  down  trees  or  clearing  away  the  underbrush  or  building  bridges. 
The  work  is  not  expensive.  A few  years  ago  the  Bulu  waged  war  on 
the  coast  tribes  for  alleged  robbery  and  laid  waste  the  country,  even 
destroying  factories  in  Kribi  itself.  The  Government  now  compels  the 
Bulu  to  labor  on  the  road  a certain  number  of  days  of  the  year  as  a 
sort  of  war  tax. 

At  present  no  wheeled  vehicle  can  make  the  trip.  Horses  if 
sure  footed,  do  very  well.  Donkeys  are  most  serviceable.  Bicy- 
clists find  the  wheel  convenient,  albeit  the  hills  are  many  and  there 
are  long  stretches  where  the  wheel  cannot  be  used,  but  a small  boy 
is  always  on  hand,  who  for  two  or  three  fishhooks,  the  great  treasure 
of  the  African  boy,  will  carry  the  wheel  many  a mile.  The  meth- 
ods of  travel  into  the  interior  most  commonly  adopted  by  the  mis- 
sionaries are  walking  for  the  men  and  the  hammock  for  the  women. 
All  food,  bedding,  tents,  luggage,  cooking  utensils,  everything,  must  be 
borne  by  the  carriers.  The  amount  of  the  load  varies  from  forty  to 
eighty  pounds.  Each  load  must  be  carefully  packed  and  weighed  and 
assigned  before  starting.  Hammock  bearers  have  to  be  chosen  with 
much  regard  to  both  strength  and  disposition.  A surly  hammock 
bearer  is  often  a greater  hindrance  than  a severe  rain  storm  or  a bridge- 
less stream. 

Hotels  are  unknown.  Very  little  can  be  purchased  along  the  way 
— a few  eggs,  com  for  the  donkey,  occasionally  some  bananas — but 
the  trade  is  not  sufficient  yet  to  warrant  the  erection  of  any  large 
department  stores  between  Kribi  and  Lolodorf.  Nineteen  men  were 


Departure  of  Missionaries. 


39 


required  by  our  party.  To  select  these,  to  arrange  their  loads,  to  see 
that  they  started  on  time  and  arrived  on  time  was  no  small  work.  Yet 
this  is  a part  of  the  ever  recurring  duty  of  the  missionary.  Patience, 
caution,  attention  to  detail,  discernment,  fertility  of  resource  in  case  of 

need  and  an  unfail- 
ing good  nature  is 
a most  necessary  part 
of  an  African  mis- 
sionary’s outfit. 

The  Mission  with 
wise  forethought 
had  appointed  one 
brother  to  look 
after  our  comfort. 
We  made  the  long 
journey  without  a 
hitch  or  a single 
accident  worth  the 
mention.  It  was 
not  parlor  car  ac- 
commodation by  day 
nor  Waldorf-Astoria 
by  night.  These  will 
come  in  time.  It  is  only  a few  years  ago  that  Mosilikatse,  the  wild  heathen 
king,  ruled  at  Buluwayo.  In  a current  number  of  the  “ African 
W orld  ’ ’ I find  the  following  advertisement : “A  weekly  fast  train  de  luxe 

leaves  Cape  Town  every  Wednesday,  conveying  first  and  second  class 
passengers  for  Kimberley,  Maf eking,  Buluwayo,  and  connecting  with  fast 
saloon  service,  sleeping  accommodations  to  Salisbury  and  Victoria  Falls.” 
No  such  train  is  advertised  in  the  Kamerun.  The  good,  staid,  Presby- 
terian mission  caravan,  personally  conducted,  while  slow,  is  quite 
safe  and  not  at  all  uncomfortable.  The  average  day’s  journey  is  twenty 
miles,  although  one  day  we  made  twenty-seven  miles.  This  is  as  fast 
as  the  carriers  can  go  with  their 
loads.  We  left  Batanga  on  Tuesday 
morning  early  and  reached  Lolo- 
dorf  Friday  noon.  One  of  the  mis- 
sionaries during  our  stay  made  this 
trip  on  a wheel  in  a day  and  a quarter. 

Each  trip  of  this  kind  spells  to  the 
missionary  ‘‘opportunity  for  service.” 

At  each  town  where  we  stopped  for 
the  night  a service  was  held.  There 
were  times  when  the  visitors  from 
America  were  too  weary  to  attend 
the  service.  Not  so  the  missionary 
and  the  faithful  Christian  carriers, 
who  were  untiring  in  their  efforts  to  preach  the  Gospel  by  the  way. 


The  Way  We  Carry  the  Babies. 


The  Path  through  the  Forest  was  Often  Very  Beautiful. 


A MEMORABLE  SERVICE. 

One  service  stands  out  vividly  in  my  memory.  The  day  had  been  a 
long  and  trying  one.  The  sun-baked,  red  clay  road  wearied  both  feet  and 


40 


eyes.  No  friendly  shade  of  overhanging  tree  to  protect  from  the  tropical 
sun.  All  day  it  seemed  like  “sacred  high  eternal  noon’’  save  for  a few 
stretches  of  woods,  and  here  the  odor  was  like  that  of  decaying  cabbage. 
No  such  exhilaration  as  one  feels  in  traveling  in  the  Adirondacks  or  the 

Maine  woods  where 
the  fragrance  of  the 
spruce  or  pine  or  hem- 
lock act  as  a tonic. 
No  ozone.  This  day 
we  met  many  a car- 
rier struggling  under 
his  weary  load,  many 
a woman  also  bearing 
her  heavy  burden , and 
saddest  of  all,  little 
children  tramping 
along  with  their  loads , 
anon  resting  them  on 
some  friendly  rock  or 
stump  by  the  wayside , 
the  oppressions  of 
many  generations 
seemingly  writ  large 
on  their  prematurely 
old  faces.  The  heart  has  been  crushed  out  of  the  race  by  cen- 
turies of  cruelty.  The  sight  of  these  little  children  with  their  eyes 
cast  down  to  the  ground,  not  even  looking  up  when  we  cheerily  said 
“M’bolo,”  haunts  me  still.  After  the  long  day  came  the  rest  at  the 
town,  and  the  early  evening  meeting  at  which  one  of  our  native  evan- 
gelists, N’denga,  preached  from  John  3:16.  The  entire  population  of 
the  town  seemed  to  be  present.  Once  and  again  the  evangelist 
would  stop  in  his  fervid  discourse  and  ask  some  pertinent  question 
to  make  sure  that  they  were  following  him.  A 
low  response  would  come  from  his  auditors.  A 
single  lantern  on  a small  table  in  front  of  our  tent 
cast  the  only  light  on  this  strange  scene,  the  peo- 
ple crowded  near,  and  far  back  in  the  dim  light  one 
could  see  the  expectant  faces  of  weary  men  and 
women  and  children.  How  very  quiet  when  the 
preacher  ceased  and  poured  out  his  soul  in  a prayer 
to  God  for  a blessing  on  the  spoken  word.  It 
seemed  like  New  Testament  times,  “The  people 
pressed  upon  Him  to  hear  the  word.” 

All  along  the  way  we  found  the  people  in  town 
and  village  eager  for  the  Word.  Even  at  midday 
the  head  man  of  a town  would  ask  the  missionary 
to  stop  “that  the  Word  might  be  preached.”  The 
first  night  we  spent  in  a Mabeya  town.  On  an- 
other day  we  were  with  the  Bulu.  The  third  day 
we  saw  many  Y aundi  coming  from  the  interior,  a tall , 
fine  race  of  men,  and  not  far  from  Lolodorf  theNgumba  and  men  from  the 
large  Bene  tribe  who  speak  Bulu.  Long  before  we  reached  Lolodorf  we  saw 
evidences  of  the  spiritual  work  being  done  in  this  centre  of  missionary 
activity.  On  the  third  day  near  the  noon-tide  hour  we  rested  at  a small 


N'denga. 


41 


(town  called  Lam.  Soon  a group  of  school  children  sat  down  by  us  and 
exhibited  with  great  delight  school  books  which  we  found  were  those 
prepared  by  one  of  our  Bulu  missionaries  and  used  in  all  of  our  town 
I schools.  Then  the  children  brought  out  the  Bulu  hymn-book.  We 
began  to  sing  a familiar  tune.  These  small  friends  of  ours  in  this  far 
away  land,  under  the  sheltering  palm  tree,  joined  us  in  this  sweet  song 
of  Zion.  We  did  not  know  them  nor  their  language  nor  did  they  know 
us  save  that  we  belonged  to  the  Mission. 


Raw  Heathenism. 


At  Lolodorf  we  learned  the  story  of  Lam,  The  work  there  was 
the  result  of  two  young  men  who  had  no  direct  connection  with 
the  Mission.  A native  Christian  took  the  Gospel  to  this  town. 
A few  were  converted.  One  day  a delegation  of  three  Christians 
from  Lam  waited  on  the  missionary  at  Lolodorf  and  requested  that 
a preacher  be  sent  from  Lolodorf  to  them  and  a school  established. 
Up  to  this  time  no  white  missionary  had  ever  visited  Lam.  In  fact 
for  more  than  fifteen  months  there  had  been  no  white  missionary 
at  Lolodorf,  the  work  being  entirely  under  the  care  of  the  native  evan- 
gelist. The  request  of  these  native  Christians  was  granted.  A young 
convert  was  sent  from  Lolodorf  to  Lam  as  Philip  long  ago  went  down 
from  Jerusalem  to  Samaria.  The  Christians  at  Lam,  aided  by  the  Chris- 
tians at  Lolodorf,  paid  the  entire  expense  of  the  school  and  the  salary 
of  the  evangelist.  No  money  came  from  the  Board.  In  the  contribu- 
tions of  the  Lam  Christians  were  many  motley  and  even  pitiful  objects, 
but  all  helped  to  make  up  the  required  amount  and  showed  the  depth 
of  conviction  of  these  young  Christians.  The  head  man  (Buruk)  was 
converted.  I saw  him  at  Lolodorf  on  the  first  Sunday  of  the  year 
1905.  He  and  fifteen  others  had  walked  twenty-seven  miles  to  attend 


42 


the  service.  He  was  a man  of  more  than  ordinary  ability  and  his  face 
was  radiant  with  joy  during  the  entire  service.  He  evidenced  his  faith 
by  his  works.  When  converted  he  had  five  wives,  one  of  whom  was  a 
Dwarf.  He  provided  for  each  of  these  wives  save  one,  which  he  kept. 
The  Dwarf  wife  he  gave  to  a 
Dwarf  man  who  had  no  wife. 

In  each  case  he  refused  to 
take  money  for  the  women, 
although  all  had  cost  him 
money  and  it  was  like  parting 
with  his  fortune.  Wives  are 
money  in  Africa.  This  man 
gave  up  a good  portion  of  his 
fortune  when  he  sent  away 
four  of  his  five  wives.  The 
Dwarf  wife  became  a Christian 
and  is  now  in  the  inquiry  class. 

The  head  man  himself  has 
done  much  evangelistic  work 
and  bids  fair  to  become  a 
great  power  for  good  among 
his  own  people.  At  a Sabbath  afternoon  service,  held  a few  weeks 
before  we  passed  through  Lam,  one  hundred  and  fifty  persons  were 
present.  This  town  may  become  a centre  of  Christian  influence  for  all 
the  regions  round  about. 

As  we  journeyed  toward  Lolodorf,  we  passed  a goodly  number  of 
Christians  en  route  to  church.  They  lived  two  days’  journey  from 
Lolodorf.  On  their  backs  they  carried  their  food.  The  pace,  as  with 
Jacob’s  caravan  of  old,  “was  the  pace  of  the  child,”  for  children  were  in 
their  company.  Most  of  these  arrived  Saturday  noon  in  time  for  the 
prayer  meeting  held  every  Saturday  afternoon  by  the  native  Christians 
as  a preparation  for  the  Lord’s  day.  There  must  be  some  depth 
of  conviction  when  people  will  walk  from  ten  to  thirty  miles 
twice  a month,  carrying  their  own  provisions,  and  all  for  the 
purpose  of  hearing  the  Word. 

We  also  met  native  Christians  doing  itinerating 
work.  It  is  the  custom  of  the  missionaries  to  send 
out  on  itinerating  tours  members  of  the  catechetical 
class.  This  practice  is  a good  one,  since  it  trains 
the  native  Christian;  it  carries  the  Gospel  to  distant 
towns  where  the  missionary  cannot  go,  and  it  sows 
much  Gospel  seed.  Only  those  in  whom  the  missionary 
has  confidence  are  thus  sent  out.  We  met  some  of 
these  workers,  their  faces  beaming  with  smiles  as  they 
saw  the  missionary  and  told  of  their  joy  of  service. 
During  school  vacation  last  year  three  native  Chris- 
tians went  of  their  own  volition  and  at  their  own 
charges  on  an  itinerating  evangelistic  tour.  For  three 
weeks  they  preached  Christ  and  Him  crucified. 
One  said  that  if  he  brought  back  all  the  fetishes  he 
had  gathered  he  would  have  had  a great  load.  Another  of  these  evan- 
gelists cut  a notch  on  the  long  wooden  toothbrush,  such  as  natives  use  in 
Bululand,  for  each  man  who  gave  up  his  fetish.  The  toothbrush  shows 
more  than  two  hundred  notches  as  a result  of  one  itinerating  tour.  The 


Road  Between  Lolodorf  and  Elat. 


43 


inquiry  class  at  Lolodorf  numbers  more  than  three  hundred. 

From  this  large  number  only  a few  are  chosen  to  do  the  work  of 
an  evangelist.  It  speaks  well  for  the  type  of  Christian  that  any 
can  be  found  who  are  willing  and  able  to  do  this  blessed  work. 

It  is  well  to  remember  that  while  Lolodorf  has  been  established 
six  years,  there  was  at  the  time  of  my  visit  no  organized  church. 

Many  had  expressed  a desire  to  confess  Christ,  but  the 
missionary  with  wise  conservatism  deemed  it  best  to  keep 
them  in  the  inquiry  class  until  they  were  rooted  and  grounded 
in  the  truth. 

The  most  conspicuous  object  as  you  approach  Lolodorf  from 
the  west  is  Government  Hill.  It  is  a mass  of  red  clay  on  the 
summit  of  which  stand  the  government  buildings.  The  view 
from  Government  Hill  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  all 
the  Mission.  As  you  pass  this  hill  you  descend  to  the 
bridge  which  spans  the  Nlong  River.  A steep  ascent  brings 
you  to  the  native  town  and  passing  this  you  are  at  the 
mission  property. 

The  property  is  small,  consisting  only  of  twelve  acres. 

One  wonders  how  so  great  a work  could  have  been  carried  on 
in  so  limited  an  area.  The  first  building  to  attract  attention  is 
the  palaver  house.  It  is  just  within  the  grounds,  facing  the 
road.  Like  all  the  buildings  at  Lolodorf,  it  is  of  bark,  a good 
sized  structure,  50  x 24  feet,  one  single  large  room,  where  car- 
riers going  to  the  coast  or  returning  can  rest  at  any  hour  of  the 
day  or  night.  The  carriers  are  permitted  to  eat  their  meals  in  the 
palaver  house,  but  the  refuse  must  be  cleared  away  before  they 


Tooth 

Brush. 


View  of  Lolodorf  from  Government  Hill. 

leave.  A great  street  chapel  would  be  a proper  name  for  this  structure 
if  it  were  in  one  of  the  populous  cities  of  China.  From  January  5 to 
January  26,  1905,  no  less  than  3,197  persons  heard  the  Gospel  in  this 
pala.ver  house.  Carriers  stop  here  who  come  from  many  days’  journey 


44 


and  represent  many  and  varied  African  tribes.  They  do  not  always 
in  their  short  stay  live  peaceably  together.  One  night  a cry  came  from 
the  palaver  house.  We  all  rushed  out  to  ascertain  its  cause.  Two  men 
had  quarreled;  both  were  badly  injured;  everybody  was  excited.  Men 
with  lighted  torches  were  hastening  hither  and  yon,  all  talking  in  excited 


View  from  the  Government  Hill  at  Lolodorfis  one  of  the  Most  Beautiful  in  all  the  Mission. 

tones,  and  it  seemed  as  if  we  were  in  the  midst  of  an  incipient  riot.  The 
missionary  physician,  however,  soon  restored  quiet,  the  men  were  taken 
to  the  dispensary,  their  wounds  dressed,  and  matters  went  on  as  before. 
It  is  no  small  task  to  keep  in  order  great  caravans  of  men,  weary  and 
irritable  with  their  day’s  march.  The  palaver  house  costs  time  and 
patience,  and  some  money,  but  I know  of  no  single  instrumentality  in 
all  the  Mission  that  sends  the  light  of  the  Gospel  further  afield  than  this. 

Nearby  is  the  dispensary,  a small  room  in  one  of  the  two  dwelling 
houses  on  the  mission  grounds,  a busy  place.  Its  patients  come  from 
far,  many  days’  journey,  to  this  haven  of  rest.  I saw  one  poor  woman 
who  had  carried  a sick  child  four  days  and  four  nights  in  order  to  reach 
the  blessed  physician.  Worn  and  haggard  was  her  face.  In  her  hand 
she  brought  two  chickens  (alive),  as  pay  for  the  medicine.  The  medical 
missionary  has  no  time  to  himself.  I saw  patients  standing  at  the  door 
of  his  home  before  seven  in  the  morning.  They  came  when  we  were  at 
the  noon-day  meal.  Their  dusky  faces  were  seen  peering  in  the  doorway 
when  the  stars  were  shining  in  the  evening  sky.  Time  is  no  element  in 
the  life  of  the  African,  he  carries  no  watch.  Patience  is  the  crowning 
virtue  required  in  the  medical  missionary*  for  pain  and  suffering  admit 
of  no  rules.  The  weary  traveler  must  be  eased  of  his  pains  even  though 
he  comes  at  the  most  untimely  hours. 

The  most  prominent  structure  on  the  grounds  at  Lolodorf  is  the 
church.  It  is  of  bark,  resting  on  posts  some  distance  from  the  ground, 
requiring  steps  to  ascend,  has  a plank  floor  and  a goodly  sized  tower. 
Alas  for  the  faith  of  the  builders!  We  spent  two  Sundays  at  Lolodorf. 


45 


Both  of  the  morning  services  had  to  be  held  out  of  doors,  the  church 
being  entirely  inadequate  for  the  throngs  of  people  who  crowded  to  the 
service.  On  the  first  Sunday  morning  there  were  1,033  persons  present, 
and  nearly  as  many  on  the  second  Sunday.  A group  of  eager  faces 
greeted  me  as  I arose  to  preach  the  Gospel  of  the  grace  of  God.  It  was 
a typical  scene  in  the  open  air  under  the  trees,  a motley  crowd,  a few 
well  dressed,  many  illy  clad,  all  apparently  deeply  interested  in  the 
spoken  Word. 

In  the  afternoon  we  held  a service  for  those  who  had  confessed 
Christ.  The  service  was  held  in  the  church.  It  was  crowded.  A sign 
“Standing  Room  Only”  would  hardly  have  been  truthful.  There  was 
no  space  not  occupied.  After  a brief  talk,  an  opportunity  was  given  to 
the  people  to  ask  questions.  “How  long  after  believing  in  Christ  must 
one  wait  to  be  baptized? ” This  question  has  an  added  pertinency  when 
it  is  remembered  that  no  one  had  yet  been  baptized  at  Lolodorf.  An- 
other question : ‘ ‘ How  long  was  it  after  people  accepted  Christ  before  He 
allowed  them  to  be  baptized? ” Still  another:  “Is  it  true  that  God  gives 
the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  Him?”  And  one  very  pathetic  ques- 
tion: “We  need  more  teachers,  we  are  so  ignorant.  Can  you  not  send 
them  to  us?”  We  spent  an  hour  in  discussing  purely  spiritual  matters. 
Then  one  young  man  arose.  He  was  a bright  lad  with  open  countenance. 
One  of  the  most  encouraging  signs  at  Lolodorf  was  the  number  of  young 
men  confessing  Christ.  This  young  man  said:  “We  have  not  much  to 
give,  but  thank  you  for  coming.  We  want  to  thank  the  Christians  in 
your  land  for  what  they  have  done  in  sending  us  this  blessed  Gospel.”  I 
suggested  to  the  missionary  who  was  interpreting  for  me  that  there  might 
be  others  who  wished  me  to  bear  their  thanks  to  the  Christians  who  had 
sent  them  the  Gospel.  He  interpreted  my  words  and  then  at  once  five 
hundred  men,  women  and  children  arose.  I saw  twice  five  hundred 
hands  stretched  out  toward  me,  twice  five  hundred  eyes  beamed  thanks, 

and  from  many  throats  a 
mighty  shout,  such  as  I had 
not  heard  in  Africa  before, 
rent  the  air.  A great  torrent 
of  feeling  swept  over  the  audi- 
ence. It  was  wonderful!  A 
dash  of  the  old  life  of  the 
forest,  the  old  unrestrained 
emotion  curbed  and  disci- 
plined by  the  new  life  slowly 
awakening  in  their  hearts. 
A trader  in  Africa  once  told 
me  that  a Negro  had  no  grati- 
tude. He  was  mistaken.  My 
observation  is  limited,  but  as 
far  as  it  goes  I stoutly  affirm 
that  where  the  Gospel  has 
touched  the  hearts  of  the  Africans  they  show  much  gratitude. 

Straws  show  which  way  the  wind  blows.  The  men  at  Lolodorf 
sometime  since  resolved  that  they  would  not  sell  their  sisters  and  daugh- 
ters in  marriage,  and  that  in  no  case  would  they  take  a dowry  for  a sister 
or  daughter.  This  is  a great  step  forward.  The  marriage  customs  of 
Africa  are  the  most  subtle  foes  with  which  the  Gospel  contends.  Polyg- 
amy keeps  more  out  of  the  church  than  all  other  influences  combined. 

46 


. 

r 


Saturday  Afternoon  Meeting  Conducted  by  Natives. 
No  Boom  Inside. 


This  action  of  the  men  of  Lolodorf,  even  if  it  takes  long  ere  it  is  realized, 
means  much.  It  means  purity,  it  means  family  life,  it  means  the  basis 
of  a Christian  civilization. 

It  may  seem  strange  to  Christians  at  home  that  no  church  has  yet 


View  of  Service — January  1 , 1905. 


been  organized,  but  the  missionary  knows  the  situation  thoroughly.  He 
is  building  for  the  future.  An  undue  fondness  for  numbers  brought  a 
great  king  of  ancient  times  into  trouble.  The  craze  for  statistics  is  not 
helpful.  I saw  nothing  in  all  my  visit  that  pleased  me  more  than  the 
conservatism  of  our  missionaries  in  baptizing  converts.  The  Presby- 
terian Church  in  America  can  wait  for  tabulated  statistics  while  such 
work  as  I viewed  at  Lolodorf  is  going  on. 

Lolodorf  is  a busy  place.  The  store  takes  much  time.  The  school 
each  morning  pre-empts  the  time  and  strength  of  most  of  the  workers. 
There  is  no  school  building,  the  church  is  utilized  for  this  purpose. 
Proper  classification  of  scholars  is  almost  impossible.  I saw  little  boys 
with  old  men  and  women  in  the  same  class,  all  learning  to  read.  It  is  no 
small  task  to  direct  such  a class  through  the  intricacies  of  the  alphabet. 
Progress  is  often  rapid.  A lad  who  three  years  ago  did  not  know  how 
to  read  is  to-day  teaching  a school  in  a native  town  some  miles  from  Lolo- 
dorf. He  has  fifty-five  in  his  class.  In  the  report  of  the  Batanga 
Station  it  was  noted  that  some  of  the  best  scholars  came  from  Lolodorf . 
The  Lolodorf  boy  is  pushing  ahead.  His  faculties  are  sharp.  Two 
Dwarf  boys  in  the  school  one  day  saw  some  bees  flying  about.  They 
came  to  the  missionary  and  told  him  that  honey  was  somewhere  in  the 
immediate  vicinity.  Permission  was  given  to  search,  and  they  soon 
located  the  honey  in  a large  tree  on  the  mission  property.  They  built  a 
fire  and  made  a fagot  of  a stick  with  pitch,  covered  over  with  large  leaves. 
Then,  after  securing  a long  piece  of  string,  one  of  these  boys  climbed  the 
tree.  The  other  lighted  the  fagot,  and  the  string  having  been  lowered 


47 


by  the  boy  in  the  tree,  the  smoking  firebrand  was  pulled  up.  It  took 
two  operations  to  smoke  out  the  bees.  Then  a small  bowl  was  tied  to 
the  string  and  reached  the  boy  in  the  tree.  It  was  soon  filled  with 
choice  honey  and  let  down.  The  faculties  are  all  right  even  in  the  Dwarf, 


Interior  Lolodorf  Church — Satvrday  Afternoon  Meeting. 


arm  chair  critics  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.  Lolodorf  will  yet 
show  Dwarf  lads  preaching  the  Gospel  to  their  fellow  countrymen. 

The  work  at  Lolodorf  was  made  possible  by  the  generosity  of  a godly 
Scotch  woman  who  desired  to  send  the  Gospel  to  the  Dwarfs.  A great 
work  has  been  done  at  Lolodorf  but  not  many  Dwarfs  have  yet  been 
reached.  They  dwell  apart  by  themselves,  the  other  tribes,  either 
through  prejudice  or  self  interest,  placing  every  obstacle  possible  in  the 
way  of  the  missionary  reaching  the  Dwarfs. 

A DAY  AND  A NIGHT  IN  A DWARF  VILLAGE. 

A visit  to  a Dwarf  village  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  our 
African  experiences.  By  diligent  inquiry  one  of  the  trusted  native 
Christians  at  Lolodorf  learned  of  some  twenty-one  Dwarf  villages  within 
a few  days’  journey  of  the  station.  It  was  one  of  these  villages,  never 
before  visited  by  a white  man,  in  which  we  spent  a day  and  a night.  Our 
route  lay  by  the  new  government  road  along  Nlong  river,  and  running 
northward  into  the  interior.  After  a few  miles  of  travel  on  the  main 
highway  we  pressed  into  the  forest.  At  the  first  town  passed  through 
we  were  told  that  there  were  no  Dwarf  villages  in  the  direction  in  which 
we  were  going.  This  statement  of  the  villagers  was  thoroughly  char- 
acteristic. They  wished  to  lead  us  astray.  Our  guide,  however,  pushed 
on  and  came  to  a village  where  he  found  a man  who  was  willing,  for  a 
small  consideration,  to  take  us  to  the  Dwarf  village.  We  were  soon  in 

48 


the  dense  forest.  The  narrow  footpath  was  at  times  almost  invisible. 
Even  at  midday  it  seemed  twilight.  Ever  and  anon  someone  would  cry 
out  “Where  is  the  path?”  Great  trees  lay  across  our  way.  Under- 
brush was  so  thick  that  it  had  to  be  cut  with  the  knife  ere  we  could  pro- 
ceed. After  some  two  hours  our  guide  stopped  and  enjoined  silence. 
His  keen  ear  had  detected  the  sound  of  wood  chopping  far  away.  He 
left  us,  and  in  a few  moments  returned  with  two  Dwarfs.  It  was  a strange 
meeting.  We  stood  in  the  rude  path  in  the  forest  across  which  only  a 
few  straggling  rays  of  sunlight  occasionally  managed  to  find  their  way. 
Shadows  were  all  about  us.  It  was  twilight  at  noonday.  These  children 
of  the  forest  eyed  us  suspiciously.  They  are  a timid  race  and  have  been 
much  oppressed.  In  stature  they  are  somewhat  under  five  feet,  in  color 
a yellowish  black,  with  foreheads  retreating,  mouth  and  chin  protruding, 
the  eye  bright  and  keen,  and  the  countenance  pleasing  and  much  more 
intelligent  than  I had  expected  to  find.  While  the  lower  limbs  seemed 
short  and  slender,  the  body  was  thick  set  with  strong  arms  and  general 
impression  of  fine  muscular  development.  They  had  few  ornaments.  I 
noticed  later  one  Dwarf  with  a bunch  of  black  beads.  Another  had  a 
string  around  his  neck  on  which  was  a small  antelope  horn.  This  man 
was  a rain  doctor  and  this  horn  was  rain  medicine.  At  certain  times  of 
the  year  rain  interferes  with  hunting,  and  the  rain  doctor  is  called  upon 
to  assist  the  hunters. 

The  only  tattooing  I saw  was  on  the  neck  and  arms,  a series  of  irreg- 
ular pyramids.  It  was  most  interesting  to  watch  the  two  Dwarfs  as  they 
led  the  way  to  their  village.  Not  a stick  was  broken  by  their  stealthy 
tread.  Hardly  a leaf  was  moved  as  they  pushed  silently  forward  into 


View  of  Service— January  1 , 1905. 


what  seemed  a pathless  forest.  Soon  we  were  at  the  bank  of  a stream 
on  the  other  side  of  which  was  the  village  of  the  Dwarfs. 

I counted  fourteen  huts.  They  were  not  houses,  only  shelters.  Two 
poles  a few  feet  apart  driven  in  the  ground  with  a cross  pole  between  and, 
from  this  cross  pole  other  poles  extending  to  the  ground,  the  whole  covered 


49 


with  sticks  and  leaves.  One  end  was  enclosed,  all  the  rest  open.  This  is 
the  home  of  the  Dwarf.  Built  in  a day  it  can  be  left  in  a night.  A clearing 
of  perhaps  half  an  acre  had  been  made  in  the  forest  about  the  banks  of 
the  stream  and  the  huts  were  all  within  a hundred  feet  of  the  water. 

Almost  no  articles  were  to  be 
seen  in  the  huts.  Small  beds 
made  of  bamboo,  less  than 
five  feet  long  and  about  a foot 
from  the  ground,  showed 
that  the  Dwarf  was  not  in- 
sensible to  some  comfort. 
A bamboo  bed  is  not  at  all  un- 
comfortable. An  inventory 
of  all  the  articles  seen  in  all 
the  huts  would  include  only 
a few  crossbows  and  arrows 
with  quiver,  a small  cooking 
pot,  drum  sticks  to  kindle 
fires,  monkey  steaks,  a little 
native  grass  cloth  and  a quan- 
tity of  cassava  and  plantains. 

It  is  said  that  for  fear  of  robbers  the  Dwarf  buries  his  treasure 
in  the  woods.  When  we  entered  the  village  not  a woman  or  child 
was  to  be  seen.  All  had  fled  at  our  approach.  Later  in  the  day, 
when  confidence  was  restored,  they  all  returned.  One  hut  much 
smaller  than  the  others  attracted  my  attention.  In  it  was  a Dwarf, 
a man  in  middle  life,  who  was  in  a heap  in  one  corner.  He  was 
a victim  of  an  ulcerous  disease,  very  prevalent  among  the  Africans, 
known  as  yaws.  He  was  a most  loathsome  bundle  of  humanity,  his 
eyes  nearly  gone,  his  nose  so  badly  eaten  away  with  disease  that 
it  was  possible  to  see  into  the  throat,  his  en- 
tire face  disfigured.  I have  seen  wretched- 
ness in  the  slums  of  New  York,  I have 
looked  into  the  faces  of  London’s  outcasts, 

I have  seen  battered  humanity  in  the  Chinese 
quarter  in  San  Francisco,  I have  passed  with 
a shudder  lepers  at  the  gate  at  Jerusalem,  or 
along  the  highway  of  Samaria,  or  at  the  an- 
cient city  of  Damascus,  but  I never  saw  a 
more  wretched,  sad,  forlorn,  utterly  hopeless 
son  of  Adam  than  this  poor  sufferer  in  the 
Dwarf  village  of  Africa.  His  father  and 
mother  and  brother  lived  in  huts  nearby. 

The  brother  promised  to  go  to  the  Mission 
station  and  get  medicine  which  the  medi- 
cal missionary  declared  would  ease  the  pain 
of  the  sufferer,  but  could  not  cure.  The 
Dwarf  knows  little  or  nothing  of  medical 
science.  Our  trip  to  this  village  we  felt  would  Bushiageh  Where  is  the 
not  be  in  vain  if  this  one  sufferer  could  be 

afforded  even  temporary  relief.  The  little  baby  in  the  head  man’s  hut 
was  a wee  bit  of  yellow  and  black,  unhampered  with  garments  of  any 
sort,  but  with  a lusty  voice  out  of  all  proportion  to  his  size.  He  made 
the  welkin  ring  as  the  white  stranger  peered  into  his  little  face. 


Dwarf  Hut. 


50 


It  did  not  take  us  long  to  get  on  friendly  terms  with  our  little  friends. 
Seated  around  the  fire,  for  it  was  chilly,  the  head  man  asked  through 
the  interpreter  the  white  man’s  word  for  fire.  We  then  gave  him  a box 
of  matches,  having  first  lit  one.  A present  of  a twenty  dollar  gold  piece 
to  a beggar  would 
not  have  been  more 
acceptable.  On  asking 
him  “ How  do  you 
make  fire?”  he  mo- 
tioned to  one  of  his 
men,  and  two  sticks 
were  at  once  brought, 
one  about  a foot  and 
a half  long,  the  other 
not  more  than  a foot. 

The  shorter  stick  had 
a round  hole  near  the 
end.  The  larger  stick 
had  a rounded  point 
which  fitted  into  the 
hole.  He  laid  the 
shorter  stick  on  the 
ground  with  the  hole 
turned  upward.  He 
placed  very  near  it  a small  bit  of  the  dry  bark  of  a tree  used  by  squirrels 
for  making  nests.  Then  taking  the  other  stick  in  his  hand  he  placed  the 
rounded  stick  in  the  hole  and  twirled  it  with  great  rapidity,  another  man 
assisting  by  continually  forcing  down  the  top  of  the  stick  in  the  hole. 
In  less  than  a minute  by  the  watch,  he  had  kindled  a fire.  In  the  Dwarf 
land  we  seemed  to  be  very  near  to  nature’s  heart,  back  to  primitive  times. 

In  the  head  man’s  hut  we  had  noticed  a small  parcel  done  up  in  a 
plantain  leaf.  This  was  now  brought  out,  the  leaf  opened  and  the  head 
man  putting  in  his  finger  took  out  some  honey  which  he  ate.  The 
bundle  was  a mass  of  wild  honey,  and  it  was  passed  to  each  one  of  us. 
We  should  have  expected  this  bit  of  old  time  courtesy  in  a cultured 
Greek  or  a learned  Roman,  but  I was  hardly  prepared  to  see  such  polite- 
ness in  a rude  ignorant  Dwarf  who  had  not  even  the  semblance  of  culture. 
Having  once  tasted  this  honey  we  were  now  his  guests  as  much  as  though 
we  had  eaten  salt  with  the  most  courtly  of  Orientals.  A juicy  bit  of 
monkey  steak  was  offered  us,  but  we  declined,  saying  that  we  had  much 
meat,  and  in  proof  thereof,  gave  to  our  genial  host  a tin  of  roast  beef. 

A few  moments  before  six  o’clock  we  held  a short  service.  Thirty-two 
men  and  women  and  children  gathered  about  the  head  man’s  hut.  Dark- 
ness comes  quickly  in  the  tropics.  There  is  little  twilight  anywhere,  and 
in  the  heart  of  the  forest  none  at  all.  We  had  barely  finished  singing  the 
opening  hymn  when  darkness  fell  like  a curtain.  A lad,  very  small,  with 
a most  attractive  face,  who  stood  at  the  outskirts  of  the  little  group,  said, 
as  the  darkness  came,  “The  night  is  here,  I must  go,”  and  he  went  to  his 
humble  home.  As  I looked  into  the  faces  about  me  lighted  by  the 
flickering  light  of  the  fire,  it  seemed  to  me  alas,  too  true,  “The  night  is 
here,”  but  the  faint  light  was  also  there.  Close  attention  was  given  to 
the  missionary  preacher,  who  spoke  in  Bulu;  then  to  the  interpreter  who 
translated  his  words  into  Ngumba,  many  of  the  Dwarfs  knowing  some- 
thing of  both  these  languages.  Even  in  the  Dwarf  village  they  listened 


5i 


eagerly  to  the  words  of  the  preacher.  On  inquiry  next  morning,  we  ascer- 
tained that  the  Dwarfs  had  never  heard  before  the  story  of  the  Cross. 
When  asked  this  question,  the  pathetic  answer  was,  “We  have  been  told 
that  the  white  man’s  Saviour  was  killed  by  our  ancestors,  the  Dwarfs, 
and  in  revenge  the  white  man  has  come  to  Africa  to  slay  us.”  Man’s 
inhumanity  to  man  here  finds  its  acme  of  cruelty.  Human  malice  could 
hardly  contrive  anything  more  devilish. 

These  little  people  were  most  intent  in  watching  everything  we  did. 
The  blowing  up  of  an  air  pillow  excited  their  unbounded  curiosity.  All 


There  was  an  Old  Man  with  Gray  Hair  and  Most  Kindly  Face.  His  Two  Sons  with  their  Families 

Li  ved  Near  Him. 

had  to  examine  the  pillow,  feel  the  air  against  their  cheeks  as  we  opened 
the  valve  and  see  to  what  use  this  curious  article  was  to  be  placed. 

It  is  the  custom  of  all  African  tribes  on  moonlight  nights  to  engage 
in  sport.  Drum  beating  and  dancing  constitute  the  chief  features  in 
the  African’s  night  play.  It  was  a strange  scene  we  witnessed  that 
night.  The  stars  shed  some  light  through  the  tops  of  the  tall  cotton- 
wood and  mahogany  trees  which  stood  near  the  head  man’s  hut.  Two 
torches  made  of  pitch  taken  from  the  mahogany  tree  and  neatly  bound 
with  bush  rope  shed  a dim  light  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  distinguish 
faces.  All  the  players  were  women.  Between  two  trees  sat  two  small 
women.  One  had  a cutlass  in  each  hand  which  she  beat  in  perfect  time. 
The  woman  next  her  clapped  her  hands  with  rhythmic  regularity.  Be- 
yond the  tree  was  another  woman  with  a small  drum  which  she 
thumped  thumped,  thumped  with  her  fingers  in  regular  time.  The  drum 
was  small,  made  of  red  wood,  the  top  covered  with  an  antelope  skin.  The 
next  woman  had  four  sticks,  in  front  of  her  a long  heavy  bit  of  timber 
upon  which  she  let  the  sticks  descend  with  great  rapidity,  but  apparently 
keeping  time  with  the  rest.  Next  her  was  a woman  with  two  sticks 
which  she  beat  alternately,  while  at  the  extreme  end  was  another  woman 
thumping  a drum.  She  seemed  to  be  the  leader  wdiom  all  followed.  A 
low  song  with  a peculiar  refrain  was  sung  all  the  time.  At  intervals, 
apparently  at  the  end  of  a measure  or  some  pause  (selah),the  sound 
would  burst  out  with  renewed  vigor;  weird  music  the  like  of  which  I 


52 


have  never  heard.  It  seemed  to  partake  of  the  wildness  of  the  forest, 
the  call  of  the  bird  to  its  mate,  the  deep  roar  of  the  lion,  the  trumpet 
tone  of  the  elephant  or  the  hoarse  wind  sweeping  through  the  trees. 
Even  in  the  dance 
which  followed,  men 
being  the  only  danc- 
ers, there  was  nothing 
objectionable.  It  was 
the  playtime  of  these 
far-away  people  whose 
amusements  are  none 
too  many.  In  an  hour 
all  was  quiet  save  for 
the  many  and  varied 
noises  with  which 
the  African  forest 
abounds. 

The  Dwarf  is  a 
hunter.  No  sign  of  gar- 
den, no  implements  of 
husbandry,  no  evidences  of  agriculture.  His  bow  and  arrow  are 
uniquely  constructed  and  he  knows  the  value  of  poison.  One  of  the 
Dwarfs  showed  me  a bottle  of  “ strophanthus  ” leaves,  the  poison  com- 
monly used  by  most  of  the  tribes  on  the  West  Coast.  I asked  the  head 
man  if  he  had  ever  shot  a gorilla.  He  said  no  and  that  he  had  never 
seen  one  save  when  a boy,  and  then  with  a merry  twinkle  in  his  eye  he 
told  me  what  is  probably  a folk-lore  story,  for  I heard  it  often.  A boy 
met  a gorilla  in  the  woods.  The  gorilla  bowed,  so  did  the  boy;  grunted, 
so  did  the  boy;  swayed  his  body  first  to  the  right  then  to  the  left,  the 
boy  imitating  closely.  All  the  time  the  gorilla  was  coming  nearer  the 
boy  and  the  boy  gradually  retreating.  Finally  the  boy  came  to  the 
hollow  trunk  of  a tree  into  which  he  crawled,  The  tree  was  too  small 
to  admit  the  gorilla,  so  the  boy  escaped.  Humor  is  the  saving  quality 
in  the  mad  rush  of  twentieth  century  life.  The  Dwarf  seems  to  possess 
a bit  of  saving  humor.  They  are  a strange  people.  There  is  a tradition 
among  them  that  once  in  hunting  elephants  their  ancestors  went  as  far 
as  the  Campo  River.  Then  this  river  was  followed  to  the  sea  and  word 
was  brought  back  to  the  people  of  the  distant  interior  of  the  great  and 
broad  ocean.  This  tradition  is  common  among  the  Dwarfs  near  Lolo- 
dorf.  I also  heard  it  at  Batanga,  eighty  miles  away  at  the  sea  coast. 

We  gained  the  hearts  of  these  people  by  kindness.  The  whole  village 
came  to  the  river  to  speed  us  on  our  journey.  The  head  man  promised 
to  send  some  boys  to  the  school.  There  was  one  old  man  with  gray  hair 
and  kindly  face  who  even  shed  tears  as  we  parted  from  him.  The  Dwarf 
has  a heart.  It  will  be  no  easy  task  to  reach  these  people.  They  are 
timid ; they  are  nomads ; they  are  apparently  under  some  sort  of  servitude 
to  the  larger  tribes.  I know  not  whether  the  Dwarf  is  to  be  placed  below 
the  Bushmen,  the  Hottentot,  or  the  Pigmy,  but  I am  confident  that 
patience,  perse verence,  sympathy  and  Christian  love  will  bring  the  lowest 
of  Africa’s  children  into  the  household  of  faith.  No  great  results  have 
yet  been  achieved.  The  Ngumba  will  have  to  be  reached  before  many 
of  the  Dwarfs  come  to  the  Mission.  On  my  way  to  Africa  I met  two 
of  the  missionaries  of  the  Church  Missionary  Society  en  route  to 
Hausaland.  At  Lagos  two  Hausa  men  boarded  the  steamer.  They 

53 


Native  Knives , Cross  Bows , Machete,  etc. 


were  fine  specimens  of  manhood.  In  their  countenance  I seemed  to 
detect  traces  of  noble  ancestry.  They  presented  a most  picturesque 
appearance  with  their  large  high  hats,  loose  flowing  robes  and  em- 
broidered sandals.  The  Church  Missionary  Society  has  been  at  work 
among  the  Hausas  for  six  years.  They  have  but  two  converts  and  no 
inquirers.  We  have  been  at  work  among  the  Dwarfs  for  six  years  and 
have  six  converts  and  a few  inquirers.  The  Hausa  is  one  of  the  noblest 
of  African  races  as  the  Dwarf  is  one  of  the  lowest.  The  spiritual  hus- 
bandman must  wait  long  in  Africa  for  the  precious  fruits  of  the  earth. 

The  same  vessel  which  took  us  to  Africa  carried  a large  package  of 
Bulu  Gospels.  These  were  sold  to  the  people,  the  entire  supply  being 
exhausted  by  the  time  of  the  writing  of  these  lines.  No  blowing  of 
trumpets,  the  work  of  the  translator,  but  it  tells  immensely  among  a 
people  who  are  literally  without  any  literature.  The  paucity  of  books 
in  Bulu  shows  how  new  and  how  important  is  the  work  of  the  trans- 
lator in  the  interior  stations  where  Bulu  is  the  main  language  spoken. 
While  at  Efulen  the  first  Bulu  hand-book  came  from  the  press.  It  was 
prepared  by  the  Rev.  George  L.  Bates,  formerly  a Congregational  mis- 
sionary, the  vocabulary  being  furnished  by  Dr.  Silas  F.  Johnson  of 
Efulen.  Text-books  are  specially  needed  for  training  the  native 
workers.  At  the  meeting  with  the  inquirers,  more  than  two  hundred 
and  fifty  adults  being  present, 
six  bright  young  men  were 
pointed  out  to  me  as  possible 
candidates  for  the  ministry. 

If  character  is  to  be  read  in 
the  face  these  young  men  cer- 
tainly possess  the  qualities 
needed  in  a native  evangelist. 

One  afternoon  a group  of 
young  men  came  to  interview 
me.  One  of  them  could  speak 
English  and  he  interpreted  for 
the  rest.  Here  is  a part  of 
the  conversation.  One  desired 
to  be  acolporter;  another 
wished  to  study  medicine;  a 
third  who  was  an  evangelist 
desired  to  learn  to  play  the 
organ  in  order  that  he  might 
use  it  in  his  itinerating  trips. 

A fourth  asked  if  the  grand- 
children of  those  who  first  be- 
lieved in  Christ  were  alive, 
and  a fifth  if  Jerusalem  was 
still  in  existence  and  if  I had 
seen  it.  These  questions  show 
better  than  any  words  of  mine 
how  the  truth  is  working. 

These  “bush  people,”  as  they  are  commonly  called,  are  awakening. 

The  present  Lolodorf  Station  is  small.  It  is  proposed  to  make  it  an 
out-station  and  to  establish  a new  station  some  three  and  a half  miles  to 
the  west.  I visited  this  proposed  site.  Here  are  two  hundred  acres  well 
located  on  the  main  road  and  bounded  on  the  west  by  a new  road  which 


r 


Road  to  the  New  Station. 


54 


leads  into  the  far  interior,  over  which  thousands  of  carriers  pass  every 
month.  A palaver  house  on  this  road  would  duplicate  the  work  now  being 
done  in  the  palaver  house  at  Lolodorf.  The  old  station  will  be  retained  and 
the  new  one  can  be  made  a strategic  base  of  operation  for  the  vast  tribes 

of  the  interior  who  are  still  un- 
evangelized. A more  hopeful 
outlook  it  would  be  hard  to 
find  than  that  presented  in 
the  entire  field  at  Lolodorf. 

If  Lolodorf  seems  small 
with  its  twelve  acres,  ELAT 
with  its  one  hundred  and 
thirty-six  acres  is  most  im- 
pressive. Spaciousness  is  the 
impression  left  on  my  mind  by 
the  visit  to  Elat.  A few  years 
ago  the  German  Government 
sought  to  obtain  the  mission 
property  because  of  its  strat- 
egic military  value.  The  old 
station  was  on  a hill  and  from  a military  view  most  valuable.  The 
Government  dealt  in  perfect  fairness  with  the  Mission,  paying  for  the 
property  and  assisting  in  securing  the  new  site.  Never  was  a change 
more  beneficial.  The  new  Elat  is  much  superior  to  the  old.  The  station 
is  some  two  miles  from  the  large  town,  Ebolowo’e,  and  one  hundred  and 
seventeen  miles  as  the  crow  flies  from  Batanga,  on  the  sea  coast.  The 
mission  property  is  admirably  located,  on  rising  ground,  well  removed 
from  any  large  native  town,  abundantly  supplied  with  springs  of  clear 
water,  and  having  a soil  apparently  capable  of  producing  every  variety  of 
fruit  and  vegetable  indigenous  to  Africa.  It  is  scarcely  three  years  since 
the  first  clearing  was  made.  Yet  more  than  half  of  the  land  has  been 
cleared.  There  are  two  hundred  fruit  bearing  trees  on  the  property, 
fifteen  acres  of  plantains  and  bananas,  one 
acre  of  pineapples,  ten  acres  of  palm  trees, 
sweet  potatoes  in  great  profusion,  and  Irish 
potatoes  in  quantities  sufficient  to  supply  the 
station,  to  sell  to  government  officials,  and 
to  send  to  the  other  interior  stations  of  the 
Mission.  The  dwelling  houses  are  all  at  the 
western  end  of  the  property  and  a good  dis- 
tance from  the  main  road  used  by  travelers. 

Sites  have  been  reserved  for  additional  resi- 
dences as  they  may  be  needed.  Well  laid 
paths,  bounded  on  either  side  by  luxuriant 
hedges  of  lemon  grass,  run  from  the  central 
dwelling  house  in  all  directions.  The  mis- 
sionary can  in  a few  moments,  traveling  over 
these  splendid  roads  on  his  wheel,  reach 
every  portion  of  this  vast  estate.  A small 
wagon  is  owned  by  the  Mission  and  is  found  mreless  Telegraphy.  The  Drum . 

to  be  very  helpful  because  of  these  excellent  highways  extending 
through  the  property. 

Elat  is  the  place  chosen  by  the  Mission  for  its  great  industrial  centre 
and  it  is  well  chosen.  The  word  industrial  in  this  case  includes  agricul- 


3fission  Eesidence — Elat.  Note  fine  lemon  grass  hedge. 


55 


ture,  carpentry  and  raising  of  cattle.  One  of  the  best  built  structures 
I saw  at  any  station  was  the  leopard-proof  house  at  Elat.  This  house 
shelters  sheep,  goats,  pigs  and  cattle.  The  policy  of  the  Mission  includes 
the  raising  of  sheep  and  cattle  as  a part  of  the  industrial  work.  Fifteen 


Mission  Girls  on  Efulen  Hill. 


acres  are  already  enclosed  as  a cattle  pen.  The  native  African,  while 
excessively  fond  of  meat,  has  thus  far  been  unable  to  successfully  raise 
cattle.  Elat  will  be  an  object  lesson  to  all  the  Bulu.  This  very  leopard- 
proof  house  is  a forceful  illustration  of  what  the  African  can  himself  do 
to  defend  his  sheep  and  cattle  against  one  of  the  worst  foes  with  which 
he  has  to  contend.  While  it  is  true  that  the  structure  was  designed 
and  built  under  the  direction  of  the  missionary,  yet  the  work  was  done 
entirely  by  the  natives.  The  African  imitates  closely.  A three-roomed 
house  erected  on  the  mission  property  was  first  visited  by  a number  of 
men  of  importance  from  the  nearby  towns  and  then  imitated.  Once 
awaken  in  the  heart  of  the  African  a desire  for  better  things  and  develop- 
ment will  follow.  The  beautiful  Kamerun  stools,  made  out  of  one  piece 
of  wood  with  very  indifferent  tools,  show  what  the  African  can  accomplish 
as  a mechanic.  A few  days  before  our  visit  a leopard  carried  off  a 
tame  chimpanzee  belonging  to  one  of  the  missionaries.  The  chim- 
panzee was  taken  off  the  back  porch  of  the  Mission  house,  but  Mr. 
Leopard  found  it  impossible  to  break  through  the  stout,  well-built  log 
house  under  whose  protecting  shelter  were  many  sheep  and  goats. 

The  school  boys  are  making  rapid  progress  in  carpentry.  The  new 
church  now  in  process  of  erection  is  to  be  built  entirely  by  their  labors. 
The  boys  have  been  taught  by  the  missionary  to  select  the  proper  trees, 
fell  them,  and  by  the  use  of  rather  a rough  saw  to  cut  them  into  timbers 
suitable  for  building.  The  scholars  have  cleared  and  planted  many  acres 
of  the  property.  During  the  spring  of  1905  the  boys  planted  ten  thousand 
seeds  of  the  Kicksia  rubber  tree.  The  entire  cost  per  scholar  for  books , sup- 
plies and  food  for  eight  months  is  less  than  $4.00.  In  a few  years 
all  the  food  supply  necessary  for  the  six  hundred  boys  will  easily 
be  raised  on  the  place.  I know  not  where  in  the  world  $4.00  can 

56 


be  invested  and  bring  larger  returns  than  in  the  support  of  these  lads 
at  the  Elat  school. 

It  has  been  well  said  “the  black  man,  though  so  strong  in  body 
and  so  unaspiring  in  ideals,  has  as  a rule  a strong  objection  to 
continuous  agricultural  labor.”  A few  weeks’  labor  will  furnish  him 
food  for  many  months.  The  men  prefer  to  fight,  hunt,  fish,  tend 
cattle  and  loaf.  The  African  merely  scratches  the  soil  with  his  rude  hoe 
and  puts  in  his  corn,  after  having  soaked  it  in  water  to  hasten  its  growth. 
A small  community  of  a thousand  can  clear  the  land  and  grow  enough 
yams  to  keep  them.  If  the  community  increases  they  need  only  to  clear 
more  land.  The  school  boy  is  taught  how  to  dig  and  plant  properly.  He 
sees  the  benefit  of  such  labor  in  the  larger  and  fuller  ears  of  corn.  When 
he  comes  to  his  town  after  even  only  a single  term  at  school  he  is  a bunch 
of  new  ideas.  The  improved  conditions  of  the  gardens  often  are  a tell- 
tale revelation  of  the  presence  of  a mission  boy. 

It  is  still  the  day  of  small  things.  The  African  is  slow  to  change 
the  customs  of  his  ancestors,  social,  religious  or  agricultural.  The 
only  hope  is  to  plant  new  ideas  which  will  create  new  wants.  The 
school  is  a mighty  weapon  in  the  hands  of  the  missionary  in  break- 
ing down  caste  barriers  which  are  as  firm  and  strong  as  with  the 
Hindu.  The  total  enrollment  last  year  in  the  Elat  school  was  three 
hundred  and  thirty-six.  Fifty  boys  living  in  towns  four  days  dis- 
tant were  told  to  stay  in  their  towns  and  fifty  were  sent  away 
entirely.  One  hundred  and  eighty  new  scholars  in  the  primary  class 
were  placed  in  charge  of  one  woman  at  the  opening  of  the  session. 
I have  heard  one  of  the  principals  in  a public  school  in  New  York  City 
declare  that  eighty  boys  nearly  drove  her  to  distraction.  Add  one  hundred 


Church  Service — Elat , Sunday,  January  15.  Half  of  them  outside  the  building. 

to  this  number  and  you  have  a class  in  the  Elat  school.  I saw  the  school 
in  session.  “Order,  attention,  diligence”  were  notes  which  I made 
after  two  hours’  close  observation  of  that  school,  from  the  work  of  the 
beginners  on  rude  charts  to  the  highest  class  reading  from  Foster’s 


5 7 


Story  of  the  Bible.  Be  it  remembered  that  no  lad  receives  a free  edu- 
cation, that  last  year  two  hundred  and  fifty  boarding  pupils  worked 
seventeen  hours  a week  in  payment  of  food,  and  two  hours  for  tuition; 
that  the  day  scholars  also  paid  a small  sum  in  cash;  that  these  day 
scholars  walked  some  of  them  three  miles,  some  six  miles  each  day  in 
order  to  get  an  education;  that  these  scholars  came  from  eighty-eight 
towns,  representing  eighteen  different  tribes,  and  that  by  a simple 
announcement  more  scholars  could  be  enrolled  on  the  first  day  of  the 
new  term  than  could  be  accommodated.  It  is  remarkable  the  interest 
the  boys  show.  After  getting  only  a taste  of  knowledge  they  go  home 
and  organize  small  schools  in  their  own  towns.  One  boy  last  year 
organized  such  a school  in  his  own  town  at  his  own  expense.  The  sta- 
tion is  encouraging  the  organization  of  these  town  schools  as  it  relieves  the 
congestion  of  the  mission  school.  Of  course,  only  the  merest  rudiments 
are  taught  by  these  boys  in  any  of  the  town  schools,  but  enough  to  give 
the  boys  a start  and  relieve  the  teacher  in  the  main  school.  The  magnifi- 
cent property  at  Elat  makes  this  great  school  work  possible  and  gives  as- 
surance that  for  years  to  come  the  missionary  will  be  able  to  meet  the  ever 
increasing  demands  on  the  part  of  the  Bulu  for  the  education  of  his  child. 

The  church  work  seems  to  be  on  an  equally  large  plan.  It  was  my 
privilege  to  be  at  Elat  on  Foreign  Mission  Sunday,  a day  long  to  be 
remembered.  At  six  o’clock  in  the  morning  of  the  Sunday  we  were 
privileged  to  spend  at  Elat  the  great  drum  sounded  out  the  “first  call” 


1,583  at  Church  Service— Elat,  Sunday,  January  15.  Half  of  them  outside  the  building. 

for  church.  The  Africa  drum  is  a unique  feature  of  African  life.  The 
Elat  drum  is  placed  on  a platform  some  twenty  feet  from  the  ground. 
When  properly  beaten,  it  can  be  heard  for  twenty  miles.  The  drum  is 
the  wireless  telegraphy  of  Africa.  By  means  of  it  the  African  communi- 

58 


cates  all  sorts  of  intelligence  to  distant  places  and  keeps  in  touch  with 
events  far  removed  from  his  own  town.  The  drum  formerly  used  in  war, 
now  by  leaders  of  caravans,  consists  of  two  metal  tubes  joined  together 
by  a firm  handle.  The  dance  drum  is  often  large  and,  when  skillfully 


A Mission  Offering. 


beaten,  affords  excellent  dance  music.  The  drum  which  we  obtained 
among  the  Dwarfs  was  small,  but  made  precisely  like  the  other  drums. 
The  drum  Sunday  morning  simply  said,  “All  people  come  to  worship  at 
Elat.”  The  sound  was  repeated  at  seven,  at  eight  and  at  nine  o’clock. 
Every  native  who  heard  the  drum  for  miles  around  knew  the  sound 
as  accurately  as  if  a trusty  messenger  brought  the  word.  By  nine 
o’clock  every  seat  in  the  Elat  school  house  (the  church  was  blown  down 
a few  months  ago)  was  taken,  and  willing  hands  brought  planks  to  place 
outside  where  the  worshipers  could  sit  and  hear  and  see  the  preacher.  At 
nine- thirty,  fifteen  hundred  and  thirty-one  persons,  by  actual  count,  were 
within  sound  of  the  sweet  Gospel  hymn  with  which  the  service  opened. 

It  was  a strange  audience  which  greeted  the  preacher  as  he  arose  to 
tell  the  “old,  old  story.”  Every  face  bore  evidence  of  interest,  every 
eye  was  fastened  on  the  speaker,  and  a more  orderly,  attentive  congrega- 
tion it  would  be  hard  to  find  anywhere  in  the  world. 

Itwas  Foreign  Mission  Day  and  thepreacher’s  theme  was  “The  Widow’s 
Mite.”  During  the  sermon  he  used  a forceful  object  lesson.  The  meas- 
ure of  value  in  this  part  of  Africa  is  the  “kank.”  The  kank  is  a 
stick  of  cassava,  about  fourteen  inches  long  and  an  inch  thick,  done  up 
in  a plantain  leaf.  The  cassava  is  a tuber,  the  root  of  a plant  much 
thought  of  by  the  natives.  The  root  is  dug  up  and  soaked  in  water  for 
many  days  in  order  to  remove  certain  deleterious  ingredients.  It  is 
then  crushed  and  beaten  very  small,  when  after  a thorough  washing  it  is 
wrapped  in  plantain  leaves  and  is  ready  for  use.  From  one  variety  of 
this  cassava  root  comes  the  tapioca  of  commerce.  The  boys  at  the 
boarding-school  at  Elat  are  paid  one  cent  an  hour  for  working  in  the 
gardens.  The  pavment  is  made  with  one  stick  of  cassava. 

59 


The  preacher  took  a stick  of  cassava  (“kank”),  cut  it  in  twain,  then 
cut  one-half  again  in  twain,  and  then  cut  the  half  of  the  half,  and  held  up 
the  small  piece  as  illustrative  of  the  amount  given  by  the  poor  widow. 
The  audience  watched  and  listened  attentively,  and  then  gave  vent  to 
their  suppressed  feeling  in  one  great  “ugh,  ugh,  ugh.”  It  was  evident 
the  point  was  understood  and  appreciated. 

The  great  event  of  the  morning  was  the  offering.  It  was  taken  at 
the  close  of  the  service.  A platform  had  been  erected  near  the  entrance 
and  the  people  were  bidden  to  bring  their  gifts  to  the  platform  where  the 
native  elders  stood  ready  to  receive  them.  With  much  eagerness  the 
crowd  pressed  forward.  Old  women  with  wrinkled  faces  brought  their 
kank,  or  bundles  of  peanuts,  done  up  in  plantain  leaves;  young  women, 
whose  apparel  consisted  of  a plantain  leaf  in  front  tied  by  a bit  of  bush 
rope  to  a bustle  behind,  brought  wooden  bowls  or  safety  pins  or  spools  of 
thread;  young  men  came  with  their  gifts  of  fish  hooks  or  sugar  canes  or 
cash  (German  marks),  while  men  old  and  young  brought  matches,  gun 
flints,  baskets,  etc.  Nearly  all  the  gifts  were  brought  in  plantain  leaves. 
It  took  a good-sized  wheelbarrow  to  carry  away  the  plantain  leaves 
after  all  the  bundles  had  been  opened. 

More  than  five  hundred  separate  offerings  were  given.  Here  is  a list 
of  articles  handed  in  at  this  offering  for  foreign  missions.  It  is  well  to 
note  that  a few  kank  constitute  a fair  day’s  wage  for  a full  grown 
African  man  and  that  the  great  majority  of  these  fellow  Christians  of 
ours  in  Bululand  are  very  poor.  I have  yet  to  see  a Bulu  house  with 
either  a chair,  table  or  lamp.  It  means  something  for  these  poor  people 
to  bring  an  offering  for  foreign  missions.  This  is  the  list : 

6 * ‘kanks”  micaba 
269  “ peanuts 

57  “ plantains  (7  to  1 kank) 

147  “ ngon  seed — much  prized 

27  “ cassava 

1 5 plain  baskets 

1 peanut  basket 

2 wooden  bowls 


1 5 boxes  matches 
1 pencil 

1 bottle  pomade 
1 bar  soap 
1 bottle  hair  oil 

1 aluminum  comb 
25  native  spoons 

2 ebony  hair  pins 
106  tin  spoons 

i “ dessert  spoon 
r “ table  spoon 
1 package  fish  hooks 
1 fish  hook — tied  in  plantain  leaf 
1 safety  pin — tied  in  plantain  leaf 
8 safety  pins 
1 file 

1 spool  thread 


2 gun  flints 
4 yams 

4 sugar  canes 
16  agate  buttons 

1 string  beads 
1 monkey’s  tooth — used  as  ornament, 
much  esteemed 

3 needles 

1 small  fish — much  valued 
2 1 fish  hooks 
1 German  silver  ring 
1 brass  ring 

357  checks — given  for  work,  equal  one 
kank  each 
25  marks — cash 

8 cutlasses,  small 

1 cutlass,  large 

2 four  yard  cloths 
1 plate 

9 eggs 

1 bottle — used  for  medicine 
1 quart  small  egg  plants 

5 squashes 

3 bundles  shelled  peanuts 
7 chickens — alive 


The  people  were  fully  informed  that  their  gifts  would  be  used  in 
sending  the  Gospel  to  other  lands  than  Africa.  It  is  a long  step  from 
the  raw  heathenism  of  the  average  Bulu  to  the  high  grade  type  of  Chris- 
tian evidenced  in  the  Elat  church  on  Foreign  Mission  Day. 

On  Monday  afternoon  there  was  a gathering  of  more  than  five  hun- 
dred persons.  Only  those  were  invited  who  were  Christians  or  had 
expressed  a desire  to  become  such.  At  the  close  of  the  service  the  pas- 

60 


tor  proposed  that  the  people  should  build  a new  church.  The  elder,  a 
short,  thick-set  Bulu,  who  wore  a small  shirt,  a rough  belt  and  tan 
trousers  reaching  only  to  his  knees,  no  shoes  or  stockings  or  aught  else, 
arose,  and  in  an  impassioned  speech  urged  the  Christians  to  rebuild  the 
“House  of  the  Lord.”  He 
electrified  the  audience  and 
with  one  accord  they  agreed 
“to  rise  and  build.”  The 
pastor  assured  me  that  they 
will  keep  their  word.  At 
present  there  are  only  sixteen 
members  of  the  Elat  church, 
but  the  “nsamba”  or  “com- 
pany wdio  wish  to  follow 
Jesus”  is  very  large. 

On  the  Friday  preceding 
Foreign  Mission  Day  the  Elat 
school  closed  and  there  was  a 
grand  wrestling  match.  The 
“drum”  was  beaten  all  day 
and  it  said,  “Great  wrestling 
match.”  Only  one  hundred 
and  fifty  were  present.  It 
was  good  wrestling  too,  and 
wrestling  is  to  the  African 
what  football  is  to  the 
average  American  college 
youth.  The  people  showed 
great  interest.  Each  tribe 
cheered  its  champion  as  he 
went  from  group  to  group 
challenging  a combatant  from  some  other  tribe.  There  was  deep 
silence  when  the  wrestling  began  and  perfect  stillness  as  the  two 
wrestlers  engaged  in  tight  embrace  and  struggled  fiercely  while  their 
tensely  drawn  muscles  stood  out  like  whipcords;  and  when  one 
threw  his  opponent  his  fellow  tribesmen  rushed  in  with  the  happy 
abandon  so  familiar  on  the  foot-ball  field.  The  African  enjoys  this  sport, 
yet  this  day  only  a small  number  were  present.  The  boys  were  eager, 
school  having  closed,  to  reach  their  homes  and  tell  what  they  had  learned 
during  their  long  school  term.  At  the  last  Yale-Princeton  foot-ball 
match  there  were  thirty  thousand  people  present.  Something  is  wrong 
with  the  African  when  only  one  hundred  and  fifty  come  to  a wrestling 
(foot-ball)  match,  and  fifteen  hundred  attend  a church  service  knowing 
there  is  to  be  an  offering  taken  for  foreign  missions.  It  is  evident  that 
it  will  take  at  least  a generation  to  train  Africans  to  the  high  athletic 
standard  prevailing  in  many  of  our  American  colleges.  Possibly,  how- 
ever, the  Bulu  Christians  at  Elat  might  give  some  American  churches 
a hint  on  how  to  awaken  enthusiasm  for  foreign  missions. 

This  particular  Sunday  was  an  exceptional  day.  Yet  the  other  days 
of  the  week  seemed  to  be  equally  suggestive.  Two  of  the  missionaries 
who  teach  in  the  school  during  the  mornings  spend  two  or  three  afternoons 
each  week  holding  meetings  in  the  towns  from  one  and  a half  to  three 
miles  from  the  station.  Two  hundred  and  twenty-five  such  meetings 
were  held  last  year.  During  our  visit  at  one  such  meeting  seventy  per- 

61 


Hospital— Elat. 


sons  were  present.  The  inquirers ’ class  now  numbers  more  than  three 
hundred.  As  the  missionary  pastor  said,  “It  is  larger  than  can  well  be 
handled  by  one  man.”  The  Mission  at  its  last  meeting  did  well  in  voting 
to  establish  at  the  Elat  Station  a training  school  for  Christian  workers. 

The  Church  at  home  will 
never  be  able  to  send  out 
laborers  sufficient  to  care 
for  these  babes  in  Christ, 
much  less  to  seek  and  to 
save  the  uncounted  mill- 
ions who  have  not  yet 
heard  the  Gospel. 

The  Bulu  Christian  is 
not  ‘ ‘ ashamed  to  own  his 
Lord  or  to  defend  his 
cause.”  Two  of  the  school 
boys  became  soldiers  in  the 
army.  On  the  Sunday  of 
our  visit  these  two  came 
to  the  afternoon  service, 
bringing  three  of  their 
fellow  soldiers  with  them. 
The  soldier  in  Africa  has 
much  power  and  can  easily 
become  an  oppressor  of  the 
people,  or,  if  he  is  a 
Christian,  a great  help  to 
the  cause  of  evangelization. 
It  meant  much  to  me  that 
these  Christian  boys  were 
willing,  not  merely  to  come 
themselves  for  an  hour’s 
Bible  study  and  to  confess 
Christ,  but  also  to  seek  to 
help  their  companions  in 
the  same  blessed  way. 

The  spirit  of  these 
people  is  most  com- 
mendable. During  the 
Christmas  holidays  the 
medical  missionary,  who 
is  also  instructor  in 
German  in  the  school,  took  a number  of  the  boys  for  a day’s 
outing.  They  came  to  a deserted  town.  The  town  was  deserted 
because  the  government  had  made  a requisition  for  eight  hundred 
men  to  be  sent  to  Duala.  The  men  of  this  town,  fearing  they  would 
be  impressed  in  this  service,  fled  to  the  interior,  and  the  town  was 
completely  deserted  saving  one  old  woman  who  was  left  in  a miser- 
able hut.  The  outing  party  found  her  at  the  point  of  death.  The 
poor  old  soul  imagined  that  they  were  about  to  carry  her  out  and 
cast  her  into  the  river,  a practice  even  now  not  uncommon  in  that  dark 
land.  People  who  are  aged  or  infirm  are  not  of  much  service  in  a Bulu 
village.  Instead  of  this  the  boys,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  missionary, 
carried  this  poor  soul  several  miles  to  the  Mission  hospital.  I saw  her 

62 


The  Challenge. 


The  Start. 


there  being  cared  for  by  the  physician  and  native  assistants  as  tenderly 
as  though  she  had  been  in  one  of  the  best  hospitals  in  our  own  Christian 
land.  This  was  the  parable  of  the  good  Samaritan  realized  in 
action. 

A mission  station  is  a school  of  applied  Christianity.  I wish  the  half- 
hearted Christians  in  our  home  churches  could  spend  a week  in  Lolo- 
dorf,  Elat  or  Efulen,  studying  the  mission  problem.  One  afternoon  I 
walked  with  the  medical  missionary  through  a large  town  en  route  to 
the  government  station.  We  were  to  call  upon  the  government  official. 
He  treated  us  very  courteously  and  the  call  was  pleasant,  but  I was 
much  more  interested  in  what  I saw  going  and  coming.  In  this  large 
town  from  nearly  every 
house,  on  both  sides  of  the 
street,  as  we  passed,  came 
joyful  greetings  in  which 
I could  always  distinguish 
the  word  “doctor.”  On 
inquiry  I learned  in  each 
case,  “Oh,  we  have  had 
patients  in  that  house.” 

One  poor  old  man  whom 
we  saw  could  hardly 
believe  that  Jesus  Christ 
would  save  him.  He  had 
been  very  ill.  The  doctor 
had  relieved  him  of  his 
bodily  suffering  and  mean- 
while was  pointing  him 
to  the  Saviour  of  his  soul. 

“What,”  said  the  patient, 

“will  he  save  an  old  sick 
slave  who  has  nothing  to 
offer  but  a misspent  life?” 

I was  pleased  with  the  ap- 
pearance of  this  man  and 
can  believe  what  the  doctor 
said  as  we  walked  away: 

“ He  is  now  living  a Chris- 
tian life  so  far  as  I can 
judge  from  all  outward 
indications.” 

The  head  man  of  this 
town  where  this  work  of 
grace  had  been  accom- 
plished has  twenty-four 
wives.  His  sons  are  nearly 
as  well  supplied.  The  hor- 
rible tale  of  a single  night’s 
licentiousness  in  that  town 
cannot  be  told.  The  dark  places  of  the  earth  are  still  full  of  the  habi- 
tations of  cruelty  and  iniquity,  yet  out  of  this  mire  of  sin  grows  the 
white  flower  of  a beautiful  life. 

The  atmosphere  of  Elat  outside  of  the  Mission  is  still  most  cor- 
rupt. Some  years  ago  the  medical  missionary  took  to  his  home  from 


A False  Throw. 


And  it  was  good  wrestling,  too. 


^3 


a neighboring  town  a bright  young  girl  of  eight  years.  Her 

father  had  given  her  in  marriage  when  very  young,  a mere  babe, 
to  an  old  chief.  He  needed  money  and  the  chief  was  willing  to 
add  one  more  to  the  number  of  his  wives.  At  the  time  of 

his  death  he  owned  sixty  wives.  The  oldest  son  of  the  chief, 

the  father  being  dead,  now  claimed  this  young  girl  who  had 
reached  the  age  of  fifteen.  By  Bulu  law  she  must  be  given 
to  him  unless  the  physician  was  willing  to  pay  what  was  equiva- 
lent to  $400.  The  girl  had  been  under  instruction  in  the  school 
and  in  the  home.  She  could  read  and  write  and  was  a sincere 
Christian.  She  simply  refused  to  follow  the  customs  of  her  race 
and  said  that  if  the  law  was  enforced  she  would  flee  to  the 

woods.  The  missionary  is  powerless  in  such  cases.  The  government 
will  not  interfere.  One  stands  aghast  at  the  difficulties  of  changing  a 
civilization  where  woman  is  so  abased.  Girls  are  married  by  their 
fathers  every  year  to  old  men  because  the  father  needs  the  money 
which  can  thus  be  obtained.  In  this  particular  instance  the  only  hope 
for  the  young  girl  is  that  the  missionary  physician,  because  of 
cures  which  he  has  wrought  in  the  town  of  this  chief,  may  be 
able  to  free  her. 

I saw  sick  men  and  women  with  loathsome,  ulcerous  bodies  stand 
for  hours  at  the  door  of  the  missionary’s  home  and  wait  their  turn  to 
be  treated.  In  some  cases  they  journeyed  not  less  than  six  days.  No 
missionary  of  the  Board  has  been  further  inland  than  eight  days’  jour- 
ney from  Elat.  All  along  the  way,  however,  in  towns  remote  the  mis- 
sionaries of  the  Board  find  a most  hospitable  welcome  because  of  the 
work  of  the  medical  missionary  which  has  preceded  them.  The  medical 
missionary  opens  the  way  for  the  evangelist.  The  wide  field  that  is 
thrown  open  from  Elat  makes  imperative  the  request  of  the  Mission 
that  a new  station  should  be  opened  in  the  far  distant  interior.  No  doubt 
we  have  the  confidence  of  the  Bulu  people  and  of  the  Ntum  people 
and  of  other  allied 
tribes  dwelling  long 
distances  from  the 
Lolodorf,  Elat  and 
Efulen  stations. 

The  Bulu  sees  that 
the  missionary  has 
come  to  Africa  for  a 
far  different  purpose 
than  that  which 
actuates  the  trader 
or  soldier  or  traveler. 

No  social  settlement 
in  the  world  has  a 
more  loyal  constitu- 
ency than  that  to 
be  found  around  our 
Mission  stations  in 
Bululand.  The  Bulu 
Christian  has  a most  expressive  way  of  stating  that  he  is  at  peace.  “ My 
heart  sits  down”  is  his  word.  The  heart  of  the  Bulu  “sits  down”  when 
he  sees  the  missionary. 


64 


The  road  leading  to  Elat  from  Lolodorf  and  from  Elat  to  Efulen  is 
very  beautiful.  It  is  at  times  cut  through  the  solid  rock  on  a slope  of 
the  hill  with  a fair  valley  beneath.  The  forest  growth  is  most  luxuriant. 
The  tall  duma  tree,  straight  as  an  arrow,  or  the  beautiful  ayos,  branchless 

for  many  feet  from 
the  ground,  oi  the 
great  bearbau  with 
its  massive  trunk 
thrown  out  like  the 
huge  buttresses  of 
York  Cathedral,  or 
the  fine  redwoods, 
all  so  intertwined 
with  vines  that  the 
sunlight  fails  to  get 
through  save  for  a 
few  hours  in  the  day, 
make  this  trip,  most 
House  in  Which  Dr.  Good  Died— Efulen.  delightful.  I measured 

roughly  one  huge  vine.  It  was  not  less  than  a foot  in  thickness, 
a hundred  feet  long  and  stretching  from  one  great  tree  directly 
across  the  path  found  a resting  place  on  three  or  four  trees,  and  then 
shot  down  like  some  huge  snake  to  the  earth. 

Efulen  is  on  a hill  top  two  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  surrounded 
by  lofty  hills,  cloud  capped  and  forest  clothed.  The  view  from  Efulen 
hill  is  superb.  The  station  is  on  the  summit.  The  mission  buildings, 
as  you  see  them  from  the  foot  of  the  hill,  give  the  impression  of  being 
greatly  crowded,  an  impression  which  is  deepened  on  closer  inspection. 
The  sides  of  the  hill  are,  however,  being  cleared  and  room  will  soon  be 
afforded  for  the  various  new  buildings  which  the  ever  growing  wants  of 
the  station  require.  Efulen  is  the  oldest  of  the  interior  stations,  being 
established  in  1892.  At  Efulen  is  the  grave  of  Adolphus  Good. 

“Place  a flower  on  Good’s  grave  for  me  when  you  reach  Africa.  He 
was  a classmate  of  mine  in  the  seminary,  and  a royal  fellow  he  was.” 
So  spoke  a ministerial  friend  as  we  left  America  for  Africa. 

This  parting  request  was  literally  obeyed.  One  bright  morning  we 
laid  the  fair  lily  and  the  lovely  hibiscus  on  the  grave  at  Efulen  Hill 
near  the  stone  which  bears  the  inscription: — 

REV.  A.  C.  GOOD 
CAME  TO  AFRICA  NOV.  21,  1882 
ENTERED  INTO  REST  DEC.  13,  1894 
AGE,  38  YEARS 
FAITHFUL  UNTO  DEATH 
ERECTED  IN  LOVING  REMEMBRANCE  BY 
TRINITY  PRESBYTERIAN  CHURCH 
MONTCLAIR,  N.  J. 

When  Dr.  Good  returned  from  his  long  four  hundred  mile  trip  to 
the  east  and  southeast  of  Efulen  he  was  in  the  grip  of  the  dreaded 
black  water  fever.  In  twro  hours  his  poor  brain  gave  way  and  delirium 
set  in  which  ended  only  with  his  death. 

His  work  abides.  Efulen  Hill  is  crowded  with  buildings,  residences 
of  missionaries,  a school,  a church  (erected  by  the  gifts  of  the  people), 

65 


a hospital,  a dispensary  and  many  rude  houses  for  the  hundreds  of 
scholars  in  the  large  boarding  school  of  the  mission.  In  a trip  made 
last  Fall  to  the  Ntum  people — a tribe  Dr.  Good  himself  visited — a mis- 
sionary secured  not  less  than  seventy  Ntum  boys  for  the  school  at 
Efulen. 

On  the  Sunday  morning  that  it  was  our  privilege  to  spend  on  the 
hill  made  sacred  by  the  death  of  Good,  more  than  eight  hundred  persons 
crowded  the  “ House  of  the  Lord”  and  listened  with  apparent  eagerness 
to  the  Word  of  the  Lord.  In  the  afternoon  two  hundred  young  men 
conducted  a prayer  meeting  in  which  not  a moment  was  lost  in  waiting 
for  ‘‘some  brother  to  rise  and  speak.”  Everything  was  done  in  good 
taste,  no  boisterous  outburst  in  song  or  speech,  but  as  dignified  and 
decorous  a gathering  as  could  be  found  in  the  best  conducted  prayer 
meeting  in  one  of  our  city  churches  in  the  homeland. 

At  the  inquirers’  meeting  on  Monday  more  than  two  hundred  and 
fifty  men  and  women  were  present.  One  old  woman  came  twenty-five 
miles,  another  twenty,  several  came  twelve  and  fifteen  miles.  In  the 
front  row  sat  “Nana,”  one  of  Dr.  Good’s  first  converts.  Her  face  evi- 
denced the  Gospel  which  for  years  had  been  hidden  in  her  heart. 

Good’s  first  tour  of  exploration  into  the  interior  began  in  1892.  It 
was  on  this  tour  that  he  selected  Nkonemekak,  called  by  the  natives 
Efulen,  as  a possible  site  for  a mission  station. 

Good’s  monuments  are  everywhere  visible.  In  the  church  portions 
of  the  Bulu  Bible  and  hymn-book  attest  the  tireless  industry  of  this 
great  African  missionary.  He  prepared  the  first  Bulu  primer,  laid 
the  foundation  for  the  first  dictionary,  and  made  all  missionaries  to 
the  Bulu  his  debtors  by  his  diligent  studies  in  the  language  of  this  great 
people. 

At  Elat  we  were  shown  a tomato  called  by  the  natives  “Ngoto.” 
These  tomatoes  are  found  in  great  numbers  in  towns  scattered  along  the 

route  traversed  by 
Dr.  Good.  He  gave  to 
the  natives  the  to- 
mato plants  and  they 
called  the  tomato 
“Ngoto,”  which  is  a 
corruption  of  Good. 

On  Dr.  Good’s 
first  trip  into  the  in- 
terior from  Batanga 
he  encamped  on  a hill 
near  a town.  We 
stopped  at  this  town 
and  found  that  its 
name  was  “ Nkol 
N tangan  ” or  “ White 
Man’s  Hill,”  in  honor 
of  the  encampment 
long  ago  of  Dr.  Good. 
He  won  the  favor  of 
the  people  wherever  he  went  and  the  natives  were  quick  to  appreciate 
his  kindness  of  heart  and  genuine  interest  in  the  “Souls  of  Black  Folk.” 

At  the  “Bilobi”  river,  a great  stream  which  must  be  crossed  on 
the  way  from  Batanga  to  Efulen,  the  only  bridge  is  a monster  tree  felled 

66 


by  the  hand  of  Dr.  Good  and  named  in  consequence  after  him. 
There  is  now  a fairly  good  road  to  Efulen  from  Batanga,  well  open 
to  the  sunlight.  In  Dr.  Good’s  day  it  was  hardly  more  than  a path, 
and  for  miles  he  traveled  without  seeing  a bit  of  clear  sunlight.  He 
was  a pioneer. 

Efulen  is  a city  set  on  a hill.  No  better  evidence  of  the  interest 
of  the  people  in  things  missionary  than  the  numbers  seen  at  Efulen 
morning,  noon  and  night,  Sundays  and  week  days.  They  come  for 
various  reasons,  to  visit  the  physician,  to  trade  at  the  store,  to  bring 
children  to  school,  to  have  palavers  settled,  to  hear  the  Word  of  God, 
to  grow  in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  patience  of 
the  missionary,  especially  in  settling  palavers,  was  a constant  source 
of  wonder  to  me  at  all  the  stations.  I attended  one  of  the  palavers  at 
Efulen.  A poor  woman  was  the  subject  of  the  palaver.  Her  husband 
had  cast  her  off  and  taken  another  wife.  Both  were  members  of  the 
inquiry  class.  He  was,  of  course,  at  once  suspended.  The  woman  had 
been  given  to  this  man  by  an  old  chief.  By  Bulu  law  she  must  return 
to  the  town  and  be  subject  to  the  old  chief.  The  chief  would  at  once 
give  her  to  a younger  man  to  cook  his  food,  tend  his  garden,  wait  on 
him  as  a slave,  only  to  be  cast  away  as  soon  as  he  obtained  money  enough, 
which  she  must  earn,  to  enable  him  to  procure  a younger  wife.  This  is 
Bulu  law.  The  question  before  us  was,  must  she  obey  the  Bulu  law  and 
return  to  her  town.  We  held  the  palaver  on  the  stoop  of  the  mission 
house;  the  crowd  stood  all  about  us  as  this  poor  sister  in  Christ,  true 
and  faithful  and  loyal  to  her  church  and  her  Lord,  stood  and  told  her 
sad  story.  The  German  Government  refuses  to  interfere  with  the 
marriage  customs  of  the  land.  “What  can  be  done  for  me?”  This 
was  her  question.  This  was  the  query  I read  in  thousands  of  care- 
worn faces.  Her  case  is  typical.  Only  by  a slow  growth  will  a 
public  opinion  be  created  sufficient  to  right  these  wrongs  of  African 
womanhood. 

One  morning  an  old  man  from  the  far  away  Ntum  country  came  into 
the  house.  He  was  seeking  his  wife,  a young  girl  of  fifteen  or  sixteen 
years  of  age,  one  of  the  pupils  of  the  Mission  school.  I asked  him 
“How  many  wives  have  you?”  He  replied,  “Four.”  His  face  was  not 
unkind.  He  seemed  to  be  a man  with  some  gentle  ways.  The  mis- 
sionary by  kindly  word  persuaded  him  to  leave  the  girl  at  the  school 
for  another  term.  It  was  evident,  however,  that  he  owned  her,  that 
she  was  his  slave  and  must  obey  him  implicitly.  This  girl  when  a mere 
babe  was  given  by  her  father  to  this  old  chief,  whom  she  has  rarely  seen 
and  for  whom  she  has  not  the  slightest  esteem,  love  or  affection.  How 
can  you  plant  the  Gospel  in  such  soil?  The  girls’  school  is  not  large 
here  or  in  any  of  the  stations.  It  is  most  difficult  to  secure  girls  for 
the  schools.  Every  one  of  the  twenty  or  twenty-five  girls  show  in  their 
faces  the  beneficial  effect  of  the  Christian  training  they  have  received. 
At  any  moment,  however,  the  father  or  brother  or  so-called  husband 
can  claim  the  girl  and  she  must  go. 

The  Ntum  wear  a peculiar  headdress  made  of  beads  and  cloth, 
curiously  interwoven.  In  appearance  it  is  not  unlike  an  old  Greek 
helmet.  The  Bulu  men  and  women  wear  neck  rings  of  brass,  ivory 
bracelets  and  anklets  consisting  of  shells  or  nuts. 

There  are  some  bright  hours  in  the  life  of  an  African  woman  but 
polygamy  casts  its  baneful  shadow  over  every  home.  After  weighing 
carefully  all  the  arguments  in  favor  of  African  polygamy  I am  sat- 

67 


isfied  that  it  is  the  greatest  barrier,  not  merely  to  the  introduction  of 
the  Gospel,  but  to  the  progress  of  the  race.  The  missionaries  are 
unanimous  in  their  refusal  to  admit  into  the  Church  those  living  in 
polygamous  relations.  This  works  hardship  at  times.  The  innocent 
suffer  with  the  guilty,  but  I believe  it  is  wise. 

A large  group  of  Ntum  boys  interested  us 
greatly.  We  were  at  Efulen  in  January.  These 
boys,  when  brought  to  the  station  the  previous 
Fall,  seemed  a forlorn  lot,  footsore  and  weary. 

Now,  cleansed,  clothed,  happy,  they  were  living 
witnesses  of  what  a few  months’  contact  with 
the  white  missionary  will  do  for  the  bush  boy. 

The  scholars  longer  in  school  showed  even  more 
improvement.  The  recitation  of  the  class  in  Ger- 
man to  which  I listened  would  have  pleased  the 
most  captious  of  German  officials.  The  dormi- 
tories where  the  boys  live  are  mere  bark  sheds 
with  double  tiers  of  beds  and  open  places  in  front 
for  the  fire.  One  night  we  inspected  these  dormi- 
tories after  the  boys  had  retired.  So  closely  The  Three  X'tum  School 
packed  were  they  that  when  one  turned  all  must  GirU~FEfuien. C<mie  t0 
turn.  The  bamboo  beds  seemed  comfortable 

enough  and  the  fire  serves  the  double  purpose  of  cooking  food  and  mak- 
ing a smudge  to  keep  off  mosquitoes,  a great  boon  in  a mosquito-malaria 
infested  country.  These  rather  dilapidated  looking  buildings,  within  a 
few  feet  of  the  dwelling  house  of  the  missionary,  are  soon  to  be  removed 
and  new  ones  erected  on  the  slope  of  the  hill.  The  school  boys  will  do 
the  work.  The  commodious  and  substantial  church  and  school  house 
at  Efulen  Hill  were  built  entirely  by  the  school  boys.  The  “ dollar 
house ,”  built  of  the  wood  of  the  umbrella  tree,  was  also  a part  of  their 
work,  the  total  cost,  $1.00,  being  spent  for  nails. 
It  was  formerly  thought  that  the  wood  of  the 
umbrella  tree  was  useless.  The  missionary,  how- 
ever, has  proved  that  it  can  be  used  in  building. 

The  school  boys  coming  from  their  afternoon 
work  armed  with  their  various  tools — cutlasses, 
hoes,  native  knives  and  machetes — made  an  impres- 
sive exhibit.  The  African  does  not  love  work  but 
he  must  be  made  to  do  the  thing  he  does  not 
like  because  it  is  for  his  own  good.  One  of  the 
best  lessons  taught  by  the  missionary,  both  by 
precept  and  example,  is  the  value  of  work. 

When  the  boys  have  done  well  during  the 
term  it  is  the  custom  to  give  them  some  little 
present.  We  were  present  at  the  close  of  the 
school  session  when  two  hundred  boys  lined  up 
to  receive  their  gift  of  dried  fish.  I never  saw  a 
happier  lot  of  youngsters  as  each  one  went  up 
to  the  store  and  obtained  his  portion.  To 
some  of  us  the  odor  of  this  fish,  caught  off 
the  Norway  coast  and  duly  prepared  for  the  African  market,  was 
sufficient,  but  the  African,  who  has  little  or  no  meat,  is  a lover  of 
fish.  Some  of  the  boys,  like  American  boys  at  a Sunday-school  festival 
when  ice  cream  is  being  served,  after  having  obtained  their  portion, 

68 


stole  around  back  of  the  building  and  endeavored  to  get  into  line 
again.  The  quick  eye  of  the  missionary,  however,  detected  the 
culprits  and  they  went  away  amid  the  jeers  of  their  fellows.  The  boys 
from  the  same  town  or  tribe  pooled  interests,  put  all  the  fish 

into  one  pot  and  had  a. 
glorious  feast.  Anything  in 
the  line  of  meat  is  eagerly 
eaten  by  the  African.  One 
day  our  carriers  killed  a large 
snake.  The  head  of  the  snake 
was  instantly  cut  off  and  the 
body  borne  in  triumph  to 
the  camp.  The  entire  carrier 
force  was  in  good  humor  for 
the  whole  day. 

The  school  boys  also  re- 
ceive their  pay  at  the  close 
of  the  term.  It  took  three 
missionaries  one  entire  morn- 
ing to  settle  all  the  accounts - 
The  boys  pay  for  their  food 
in  hours  of  work,  a stipulated 
sum  for  each  hour.  The  food  is  purchased  from  the  people  who  come 
from  nearby  towns  on  regular  market  days.  An  opportunity  is 
afforded  the  boys  to  earn  extra  money  with  which  they  buy  school 
books,  cloth  or  anything  kept  in  the  mission  store.  If  at  the  end  of 
the  term  the  boy  still  has  something  to  his  credit  he  can  choose  from 
the  mission  store  any  article  whose  cost  does  not  exceed  the  amount 
due  him.  The  sum  is  trifling,  but  it  takes  the  lad  much  time  to  decide: 
whether  he  will  take  home  a new  loin  cloth,  a fine  red  blanket,  a cutlass, 
a small  pocket-knife,  a book  or  any  one  of  the  tempting  articles  shown 
in  the  mission  store.  The  educational  value  of  all  this  is  too  apparent, 
to  need  comment. 

The  African  boy  seems  very  quiet  and  undemonstrative  beside  the. 
American  boy.  He  has  not  many  forms  of  amusement.  I watched, 
three  boys  one  day  playing  jack-stones.  As  far  as  I could  see  my  young; 
African  friends  played  the  game  as  it  is  played  in  America. 

A favorite  game  is  hurling  the  spear.  A circle  is  formed  in  the  sand. 
A boy  places  a ring  on  his  finger  and  pushes  his  finger  around  the  circle- 
leaving the  ring  concealed  in  the  sand.  Then  all  hurl  their  spears.  He 
who  strikes  the  ring  wins. 

The  boy  begins  burden  bearing  early  in  life.  In  all  our  journey  ings. 
through  Africa  we  rarely  saw  children  at  play  save  the  scholars  in  the  mis- 
sion schools.  Nowhere  in  the  world  is  the  saying  more  applicable  than  in 
Africa : “All  work  and  no  play  makes  J ack  a dull  boy.  ’ ’ He  loves  stories 

as  does  his  elders.  Here  are  two  stories  dear  to  the  Bulu  boy’s  heart:. 

The  Turtle  and  the  Antelope. 

The  turtle  and  the  antelope  had  an  argument.  Said  the  turtle r 
“Let  us  run  a race.”  Said  the  antelope:  “And  why  should  I run  a race, 
with  the  turtle?  Would  the  turtle  run?” 

Then  the  turtle  went  and  set  all  the  turtles  along  the  path,  with  red 
marks  on  their  faces — all  the  turtles  alike.  And  they  set  the  limit  where, 
the  antelope  should  stop.  Said  the  antelope:  “Let  us  run.”  So  the 

69 


antelope  ran  and  ran  and  ran,  until  he  reached  the  town  of  Nlo  Mot6. 
•Said  he:  “Where  is  the  turtle?”  Said  the  turtle:  “ I am  here;  you  didn’t 
Tun.”  The  antelope  ran  again — ran  and  ran  and  ran,  till  he  reached  the 
town  of  Nyabitandi.  Said  he:  “Where  is  the  turtle?”  Said  the  turtle: 
I am  here.”  So  he  bounded  away  until  he  reached  the  town  of  Asok. 
Said  he:  “Where  is  the  turtle?”  The  turtle  said:  “You  haven’t  done  a 
thing — I am  here.”  And  he  ran  as  far  as  Bilobi.  And  he  said:  “Where 
is  the  turtle?”  The  turtle  said:  “I  am  here.”  Then  he  gave  up;  and 
he  foamed  at  the  mouth.  He  was  tired  of  the  race. 

Hide  and  Seek. 

A ghost  and  a man  were  friends.  Said  the  man : “ Let’s  play  hide  and 
seek.”  So  they  did.  The  man  hid  first.  He  was  hunted  and  found. 


Boys  of  Efulen  School. 


The  ghost  went  to  hide.  The  man  hunted  and  hunted,  but  did  not  see 
him.  Said  the  ghost:  “And  do  the  man  and  the  ghost  play  hide  and 
seek?  ” 

During  our  visit  at  Efulen,  the  pastor  of  the  church  was  at  home  on 
furlough.  The  acting  pastor  was  a layman.  On  Sunday  he  superintended 
the  Sunday-school  and  preached.  During  the  week  he  conducted  the 
inquiry  class  of  two  hundred  and  fifty,  led  the  prayer-meeting,  presided 
over  the  session,  wTas  physician  in  ordinaire  to  all  the  missionaries  in 
the  station,  house  doctor  to  all  the  patients  in  the  hospital  and  the 
dispensary,  itinerator  who  in  the  year  of  our  visit  had  traveled  a thousand 
miles  on  foot  seeking  boys  for  the  school  and  preaching  the  Gospel  in 
many  Bulu  towns.  He  was  superintendent  of  all  building  operations  and 
one  of  the  authors  of  the  new  Bulu  handbook.  I have  heard  statements 
that  certain  pastors  in  the  homeland  and  even  secretaries  are  over- 
worked. My  visit  to  Africa  suggested  the  bare  possibility  that  some 
missionaries  in  Africa’s  debilitating  climate  can  lay  claim  to  a variety 
and  extent  of  service  quite  equal  to  that  of  any  overworked  home  pastor 
or  jaded  secretary. 

The  atmosphere  at  Efulen  is  distinctively  spiritual.  At  a meeting 
of  the  Efulen  session  which  I attended  two  cases  of  discipline  were  under 
■consideration.  I was  impressed  with  the  deep  spirituality  of  the  entire 


proceeding.  The  cases  of  these  two  church  members  at  Efulen  were 
carefully  and  prayerfully  considered.  Discipline  and  severe  discipline 
was  imposed,  but  all  in  such  a kindly  spirit  and  with  such  evident  tender- 
ness of  heart  that  one  felt  here  was  a band  of  men,  native  elder  and 
Christian  missionaries,  dominated  by  the  spirit  of  love. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  at  any  one  of  the  stations  is  there  more 
than  a semblance  of  civilization.  All  is  still  crude  and  rough.  On  our 
way  to  Batanga  nine  wild  hogs 
crossed  our  path.  One  morning 
we  saw  many  freshly  made  ele- 
phant tracks,  and  this  only  a few 
miles  from  a station.  A few 
days  after  reaching  Batanga  one 
of  the  missionaries  shot  an  ante- 
lope within  five  hundred  feet  of 
the  mission  hospital.  In  the  im- 
mediate neighborhood  of  the  in- 
terior stations,  especially  where 
the  government  officials  and 
traders  are  located,  there  is  some 
manifestation  of  civilized  life,  but 
for  the  most  part  the  interior  is 
still  an  undeveloped  country.  The 
real  uplift  of  the  people  for  a 
large  section  in  the  Kamerun  de- 
pends almost  entirely  on  the  la- 
bors of  our  small  band  of  faith- 
ful missionaries. 

“Help  the  negro  to  help  him- 
self” is  the  cry  of  philanthropist 
and  educator  in  the  United  States. 

The  policy  of  the  West  Africa 
Mission  includes  this  and  much 
more.  No  better  evidence  of  the  genuineness  of  the  Gospel  work  in 
Africa  can  be  asked  than  the  rapid  development  of  self-support  in 
the  older  coast  churches  of  the  Mission  and  the  evangelistic  fervor 
manifested  in  all  the  newer  interior  stations.  The  cry  “Africa  for 
Africans”  is  a real  cry.  The  evangelistic  problems  of  the  Dark  Con- 
tinent can  only  be  solved  by  the  African  himself.  But  he  cannot 
solve  these  problems  alone.  He  needs  our  help.  This  is  the 
white  man’s  burden.  The  one  abiding  impression  of  “A  Visit  to  the 
West  Africa  Mission  ” is  the  readiness  of  the  people  to  receive  the 
Gospel. 


0oen  tn  tbc  £)toarf  Pillage  tljey  listcncXi  eagerly 
to  t\)t  toorfcs  of  tbe  preacher. 


71 


Idol  from  Grave  of  Chief.  Congo. 


Date  Due 

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